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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26922502">beautiful without our war paint</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaxDuane/pseuds/PaxDuane'>PaxDuane</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Background Relationships, CC-1010 | Fox Needs A Hug, CC-1010 | Fox centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fade to Black, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Fix-It, Flirting, Force-Sensitive Boba Fett, Force-Sensitive CC-1010 | Fox, Force-Sensitive Jango Fett, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath &amp; Recovery, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Projie's Alpha-6, Protective clones, Recovery, The Clones are Mandalorian, found family only everyone is biologically related, not a Jango Lives AU, recovery is non-linear, the Alpha Batch, the clones speak Mando'a, waiting to begin a relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:40:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26922502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaxDuane/pseuds/PaxDuane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to some scheduling issues, Commander Fox is the Guard who goes to Kamino to pick up the new batch of shinies. When he arrives, though, he's half out of his mind with dehydration and pain. Somehow, this results in Palpatine getting arrested, Boba Fett coming home, and a not insignificant amount of requited love. Not in that order.</p><p> </p><p>This was supposed to be a 2k romance. Instead it's a 20k hurt/comfort recovery fix-it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alpha-17/CC-1010 | Fox, Boba Fett &amp; CC-1010 | Fox, CC-1010 | Fox &amp; Original Clone Trooper Character(s), CC-1010 | Fox &amp; Shaak Ti</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Commander Fox, StarWars_TheBest</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>beautiful without our war paint</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Notes on language.</p><p>If there's a non-clone character, they're speaking Basic unless stated or patterned otherwise, or the main conversation happening is in Basic. Otherwise, they're speaking Mando'a. There was too much specifically in Mando'a for me to translate all of it, so consider it to be "translated" into English in this a la Tolkein. If a word is underlined, it means it's a Basic word in a Mando'a conversation. </p><p>I know it's not canon for the clones to speak Mando'a or have Mandalorian ideas but I changed up certain things in this AU anyways and it's not like I usually justify it but people have been getting weird about people not explicitly saying something like this is fanon.  </p><p>Uh... Other early notes?<br/>Alpha as a name for A-17 came about because Anakin lazily came up with it. So he's 17 or sometime "Ventee" here. Other Alpha characters have widely changing nicknames or just go by their numbers/nicknames of their numbers (29 is the only other one who gets called out with it as "Tee-nye"). </p><p>Force-Sensitve clones aren't ever explicitly stated as such but it's heavily implied from the get go and Shaak even starts training Fox as such though not to Padawan levels. </p><p>The Alphas were engineered to grow taller and then the Kaminoans decided "nah too many resources for the whole 1.2 million" and scrapped that genome before they made any more. </p><p>I'm very soft. I think that's about it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fox nods along to General Ti as he follows her through the halls of Kamino. Normally, Thire or Stone would come to pick up the new Guard shinies. They’re more sociable, more acceptable to the Kaminoans. Thorn is sociable too, but to the point he’s almost as poorly accepted by the Kaminoans as Fox.</p><p>Things didn’t shake up that way this time, though, and he’s not going to make Thorn come back here. He shouldn’t make any of them come back here, he scolds himself dimly, though he shouldn’t leave them to the Senate alone either. He’s their Marshall Commander, he’s their older brother. He shouldn’t be so--.</p><p>“General,” one of the instructors calls, striding up the hall to them. Alpha-17, Fox thinks and hopes his dissociation keeps the blush off his face, in case he has to take his helmet off. 17 was his ARC instructor, and he was the Alpha who ran a lot of Squad 17’s main learning. Fox’d been Squad 6, but they were across the hall from Squad 17 and often got up to all sorts of mischief together.</p><p>Alpha-6 was both older sibling to their squad and to 17, which means they took excessive delight in teasing Fox about the crush he developed on his friends’ squad commander.</p><p>17 glances over at him, tilts his head, then tells General Ti, “They’re making noises about those cadets you marked, sir.”</p><p>Ti growls, exasperation wafting off her. “I’ll handle it, Alpha. If you wouldn’t terribly mind escorting Commander Fox to the guest barracks while I’m at it?”</p><p>“Sure, sir.”</p><p>Ti apologizes to Fox and rushes off, leaving Fox and 17 alone in the hall.</p><p>17 narrows his eyes, reaches out and freezes when Fox flinches. “Fox, then?” he grumbles in Mando’a, standing tall to full Alpha height.</p><p>“Yessir,” he murmurs through his vocoder, following as Alpha starts back down the hall.</p><p>Alpha shoots him a stony look, but he feels concerned. “Don’t remember anyone having any named Fox.”</p><p>“CC-1010, sir.”</p><p>Alpha freezes mid step and turns, recoiling when Fox flinches back. “You were one of 6’s. Always changing your name, getting into things you shouldn’t.”</p><p>“Apologies, sir.”</p><p>Alpha opens his mouth to reply, then shuts it. He turns back, continues dragging Fox down the hall with only his own gravity. He escorts Fox, silently, to what used to be the Cuy’val Dar barracks and opens up a small apartment, leading him inside. “Bucket off and give me a sitrep, Fox,” he says quietly, shutting the apartment door behind them.</p><p>Part of Fox is screaming to hide, to not let anyone know, let alone the person he always wished would take an interest, but this is an Alpha clone, this is the instructor who dragged him and the rest of his class through ARC training. He hauls his helmet off, holding tight to it as he looks up at 17. He opens his mouth to try and push out a sitrep but shuts it again to worry at his lip piercing and drops his eyes to the floor.</p><p>Warm, callused hands press against his face and a soft curse makes his eyelashes flutter. “Hey, Fox… Kark, you’re burning up. Hold still a minute.”</p><p>Dimly, he feels armor parts being stripped off of him. Then, once it’s all off, he’s manhandled into a chair. He whines as his blacks are unzipped and peeled away from his torso.</p><p>“Shh, shh, sweetheart,” 17 murmurs. “Kark, what happened to you?”</p><p>Fox doesn’t know what he’s talking about—unless it’s the bruises. He always has bruises, usually from getting tossed around the Coruscant streets or…or…</p><p>“How did you get all the way to Kamino with a gash on your side?” 17 asks.</p><p>What?</p><p>“I’m gonna call 6, okay? He’s going to bring some bacta patches. Shit. Fox?”</p><p>His hands have traveled to his side, where 17 had traced around, and he presses into the spot with a cry. The fogginess shatters around him and he falls, hyperventilating, into 17’s arms.</p><p>“Hey, hey sweetheart, it’s okay,” 17 promises, “It’s going to be okay, you’re safe—we’re going to get some bacta on it--.”</p><p>“I don’t remember how I got it,” he forces out, fingers tightening around 17’s spaulders. “I know the bruises, most of the time, but not--.”</p><p>17 hisses, settling him back into the chair. “Okay, okay. I’ll call 6 for the bacta and General Ti’ll check you for dark shit, okay? And I’ll be right here, okay sweetheart?”</p><p>Despite his shaking, Fox nods, curls up into the chair while 17 sends out comm messages. His vision swims, even as 17 coaches his breathing back to a manageable box.</p><p>6 slams into the apartment in a way that shouldn’t be comforting, a tube of bacta and a roll of bandages instead of just a bacta patch. “Heya little bro,” they croon, bullying 17 to the side to get a good look at Fox’s side. “Oh, Fox… Tarayshe’ika...”</p><p>Fox hisses as the cool bacta touches his skin.</p><p>“17, can you get some water? There should be bottles in the fridge.”</p><p>There’s the beep of a scanner, a bright light passing past his eyes.</p><p>“Like the lip ring, Foxy,” 6 says. “Not a big fan of the bruises, though. What are they putting you through in the Core?”</p><p>“CorSec’s job, only worse because we do ours too,” Fox mutters.</p><p>“Kriffing nat’borns,” 6 says cheerfully.</p><p>17 wraps one of his hands around a bottle of water and guides it up to his lips. “Ti’ll be here in a few. Hold on, mmhm?”</p><p>There’s a shuffling sound, then a flash, and then 6 snickers, the traitor.</p><p>“6 I’ll make you eat your own boots,” 17 snarls.</p><p>6 wraps Fox’s side with bandages and his swimming vision slows a bit.</p><p>General Ti comes in quieter than 6, but is still purposefully loud enough that Fox can tell she’s coming. He’s grateful, somewhere in the part of his mind that’s caught up to the fact that he’s on solid ground.</p><p>“Fever, seems like it’s more from dehydration though because it’s starting to abate. Could have been the start of an infection on the side wound that the bacta took out quick, though,” 6 offers the General in Basic.</p><p>“Well, it’s something to monitor,” she murmurs. “Commander Fox, can you hear me?”</p><p>“Yessir,” he slurs slightly, wincing as he tries to sit up straight.</p><p>“I’m going to take a look at your shields. If anything hurts, squeeze my hand. Got it?”</p><p>“Yessir.”</p><p>“Just lean back.” She wraps her hand around his palm and the expanse of space explodes across Fox’s vision.</p><p>He hears General Ti curse before he’s dragged back, falling out of the chair and back into 17’s arms.</p><p>“I believe,” General Ti tells him, staring into the middle distance, “You may have just found us our mysterious Sith, Commander Fox.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not going back to Coruscant,” 17 tells Fox the next morning, barging into the room as he’s starting to get a handle on reality again.</p><p>He snarls at the Alpha. “Like hell, I’m not,” he snaps.</p><p>17 frowns at him.</p><p>“I can’t leave them there alone,” Fox insists. “I <em>can’t</em>.”</p><p>17 settles onto the mattress next to him, pinning him with only his presence. “You go back there and you’re dead and no use to anybody,” he chides gruffly. “General Ti is going to make a request that you stay to train the cadets on Guard track, but don’t think we’re not tempted to say you succumbed last night.” He snaps a pointed look to Fox’s still bandaged side.</p><p>Fox scowls right back at him. “I’m taking the shinies back to Coruscant tomorrow.”</p><p>“General Ti is taking the shinnies back to Coruscant tomorrow,” 17 corrects, a predatory grin spreading over his face. “You’re still recovering. 6 and I’ll take you to meet your cadets, then. They’re already thrilled—apparently they’ve wanted your brand of banthashit in the new generations for a while.”</p><p>“I don’t--.” He pauses, gaze drifting to the wall ahead of him. “I can’t--. <em>They</em> can’t.”</p><p>17’s rough hand cups his chin and drags his gaze back to the Alpha. “It’ll be alright, Fox. Trust us. We’re thinking through every option, every possibility. You’re not alone in protecting them anymore.”</p><p>Fox is shoving the older clone off before he can think about it, tumbling him back into the mattress and pinning him. “They don’t know,” he hisses, before he’s unbalanced by their position and flinches back.</p><p>“We’re going to make sure they’re safe,” 17 replies, snatching Fox’s wrist and pulling him down. “And you know why? Because you’re half scared of your own shadow. Even if there wasn’t a Sith screwing with all of your minds over there, you at the very least shouldn’t be on the front lines until you’re well again.”</p><p>“I’m not…” Fox curls in on himself and, thanks to their positions, 17’s side. “It’s not just the—the Sith. The public treats us like trash.”</p><p>“I’m sure, sweetheart,” 17 murmurs, carding fingers through his hair as he melts into his fingers. “Which is why you need a break. But we’re not the kind of people who go on vacations, hmm? So—a bunch of shinier than shinies who, with luck, won’t ever be going to Coruscant but will need the training either way.”</p><p>“You weren’t ever this nice during training,” he says at length, bemused.</p><p>17 hums, a little laughter in the noise. “That was training—not keeping someone from shaking apart.”</p><p>“Nothing besides that?” Fox asks, a wry note of teasing that he’s too tired to tamp down and a whole heap of hopefulness.</p><p>“Ask me again when you can sass me fully,” 17 shoots back, but he reels Fox in further. “Let me assure you, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”</p><p> </p><p>General Ti has midmeal with Fox, having him help slip through a cover story and plan how the Sith might be taken down. They decide that, no matter if he will follow later or not, the story is that he arrived sickly and is recovering on Kamino and will finish the training off the next round of Guard troopers before decisions are made to him returning permanently.</p><p>“It will give you three months,” Ti warns him. “But it’ll be stuck as so because there won’t be any other ships hallmarked for the Guard. I know you want to go back, but if it’s not safe and you’re not well enough…”</p><p>Fox inwardly sighs and just raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “Of course, sir. I understand.”</p><p>“I’ll return within the month, but until then you stick with the Alphas,” she warns. “I do not trust some of the trainers, especially not with your mental state where it is.”</p><p>Fox rotates his lip ring with his tongue, a nervous tick evolved from a tendency to bite his lip as a cadet. “Yes sir.”</p><p>Ti’s hands are warm on his as she squeezes them. “We’ll fix this.”</p><p>He looks up at her, meeting her eyes, and offers a small smile. “Yes sir,” he says again, with more force of will behind it this time.</p><p>She smiles back.</p><p> </p><p>The next day, Alpha-17 and Alpha-6 bring Fox to the room where he’s meeting the Guard track cadets. They’re so close, painfully close, to getting their whites and he can tell. He can remember.</p><p>His hands shake behind his back as he introduces himself to starry eyed cadets, some who think that being a Guard will be more exciting without the hurry up and wait of Frontiers, some who think it will be less without the glory of a front, some who worry about being considered cowards, some who think they won’t have to do as much.</p><p>Fox bares his teeth at all of them, finds out names to go with the numbers and scores, warns that now they have to exceed his expectations on Kamino instead of being dragged along up to them on Coruscant.</p><p>6 bundles him in blankets after midmeal like he’s a Little cadet again, afterwards, and shoves him into a bunk while he goes off to scare a bunch of the current Squad 6 into behaving.</p><p>6 rooms with 17, 42, and 29. 6 continued with Commanders, along with 29, but 42 joins 17 with the ARCs now. A squad full of Alphas in the next bunk room over are in charge of reems of CTs.</p><p>17 and 29 are the first back in the dorm and 17 drags Fox over to his bunk instead of 6’s, snarking with 29 about favoritism that makes Fox laugh and squirm out of the blankets to join the two in a game of sabacc that ends in a tangle of limbs and a nap before 6 drags them out to glower at cadets over latemeal.</p><p>42, who is probably the most lackadaisical of any of the Alphas Fox has met, brings him back to his guest apartment and makes noises about the trainer squad appropriating the space.</p><p>Fox doesn’t say no and, sure enough, the next day sees all four smuggling in pillows, blankets, and mattresses in a way startingly familiar to the early days of the Guard.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to strangle 82-5922 with his own scrotum,” Fox tells 17 two nights into his tutelage of the next round of Coruscant Guard troopers. “That child is going to get siblings killed.”</p><p>“What can you do about it?” 17 asks, leaned up against the little kitchen bar in the apartment and drinking an herby caff mixture.</p><p>“He seems to think it doesn’t matter that I’m a karking Marshall Commander, because I’m here training them,” he complains, plastering himself to 17’s side and making grabby hands for the caff. “I’m liable to just make an example of him once I get cleared and toss him around like a punching bag.”</p><p>“Mm, I’d like to see that,” 17 murmurs, holding his caff further away but not looking away from Fox. “Want me to get onto him in the meantime? I’ve got some of the 501<sup>st</sup>’s boys in my class who would get a kick out of a new chew toy.”</p><p>Fox slips fingers under 17’s armor, still on since he’s going to go toss around the ARC class soon anyways, and leans his head against the Alpha’s spaulder, watching for the return of the caff.</p><p>29 walks in and snorts. “Playing intimacy chicken for caff?”</p><p>The mug of caff inches just close enough for Fox to detach and snatch it up. “It’s not chicken,” he insists, sipping his prize as 17 smirks. “It’s about positioning yourself for the smallest openings, not pushing the other to a breaking point.”</p><p>29 cackles at that. “You should be giving the spec ops pointers, then.” It’s snide, but in an annoying older brother way that Fox wouldn’t have expected from an Alpha, even when he’s in the position of another instructor.</p><p>17’s lips are warm on his neck as he says his own piece. “We’re getting the darling used to us, anyways,” he says, plucking the mug back out of Fox’s hands and smirking at the sour look Fox gives him. “Come on, sweetheart, you’d play with any of us, right?”</p><p>“6 I’d go on the violence offensive before I’d ever play seductor,” Fox admits easily. “And 42 wouldn’t play.”</p><p>29 raises an eyebrow at that. “So you’d take up with me?” he asks, moving into the other two’s space.</p><p>17 snarls playfully. “I’ll let you watch my six, brother.”</p><p>Fox is a little breathless, pressed between both of them, but he takes the chance to slide away and take the contested caff with him. He chugs the rest of it with determination then slams the mug into the sink. “I’m going to hit the shower,” he says primly, shivering at the dual looks of outrage and heady predator aimed at him. The plethora of hot water might not be the only reason he’d want to stay on Kamino indefinitely.</p><p>17 straightens up. “I’ll send a few boys to play with your troublemaker, sweetheart.”</p><p>“Make sure they leave him hale enough to run suicides in the morning,” he calls over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Fox is heading to look over test results from his cadets’ etiquette lessons for the Senate when Bric corners him.</p><p>“Well, well, if it isn’t our guest lecturer,” the trainer snarls in Basic, plucking Fox’s datapad from his hands and bulling him into the wall.</p><p>“Well, well,” he snarls back, “If it isn’t the resident saboteur.” He tugs at the hidden knife in his sleeve, ready to take stab this bastard right there.</p><p>Before Bric can get further, though, two pairs of bootsteps and outrage swirl around the nearest corner.</p><p>“Commander Fox,” one brother calls cheerfully, though he’s simmering at Bric.</p><p>Fox snatches his datapad back and smoothly extracts himself. “Looking for me?”</p><p>The other brother, who has a five tattooed to his forehead, smiles sweetly. “Alpha-17 wants your opinion on something?” he says, though it’s phrased more as a question. “Something about city maneuvers?”</p><p>Fox huffs. “I forgot he’d wanted me to talk about that.” He glides past the two younger clones, grateful for the wall they’re providing as he lets them direct him back to where the ARC class is. By the time they’ve left Bric back in the fog, he’s shaking to the point where the louder brother has to take the datapad from him.</p><p>“We could beat him up for you, Commander?” the sweet smiling clone offers earnestly, pressing close so his presence can be a mooring point.</p><p>“No need,” Fox assures them, teeth almost chattering as 17 steps out to meet them with a dark expression. “I’m sure it’ll be taken care of.”</p><p>The two exchange a look and hustle back into the room, leaving 17 and Fox in the hall and handing the datapad off to 17 on their way in.</p><p>“Pretty sure Ti told you to stay away from the trainers,” 17 teases gently, pulling Fox in for a hug. “Want to watch me toss ARC candidates around?”</p><p>Fox takes a shaky breath and accepts his datapad back, following 17 in to judge his students.</p><p> </p><p>For all the ARCs are supposed to be traditional commandos, their tongues are just as much weapons. The Littles’ trainers from the bunk room next to 17 and 6’s room have come for a sabacc game at the end of Fox’s first week instructing.</p><p>They have names, more nicknames than ones they truly identify as.</p><p>“We let the cadets pick and change them,” currently-Apple tells Fox, giddy with the extra space of the apartment as she futzes with some fish one of the SCUBA instructors dragged out with their class.</p><p>“I used to have a different name every day,” Fox confides, gaining an indulgent eye roll form 6 and a suffocating look over what he knows is a great hand from 17. “Drove everyone crazy.”</p><p>Apple seems aghast, but that just startles a laugh out of 17.</p><p>6 is the one to explain, though. “That was the point,” they say, folding with a brief hand gesture. “Got away with so much when everyone could barely remember his number with all the different names his batchmates would be calling. Responded to anything that wasn’t a friend or squadmates’ name, and even then there was some overlap.”</p><p>“I never took Bly’s name,” Fox says magnanimously, bringing over mugs of shig for the four Numbers he’s starting to think of as <em>his</em> Alphas. “Everyone else was fair game at some point or another.”</p><p>“I remember Wolffe being real offended one week,” 17 cackles. “S’why he changed the spelling.”</p><p>“Oh that wasn’t me, that time,” Fox says, leaning against 17 as he and the SCUBA instructor compare cards. 17 wins. “<em>That</em> was a CT, which is why he was so bent out of shape. Something about little siblings not respecting their elders.”</p><p>17 hauls him into his lap. “Well, that certainly isn’t you, now is it?”</p><p>Fox smirks, digging the hilt of one of the knives hidden in his boots into 17’s calf, since the other clone is stripped down to his blacks. 17 lets him loose without argument, though he runs a finger along his belt as he gets up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he feigns. “I was sent to Coruscant because I was the <em>most</em> respectful.”</p><p>6 howls. “Polite,” they correct, wiping away a tear from laughter. “The most polite, not the most respectful. On any other sibling, they’d be one in the same, but not you.”</p><p>Apple draws him back into the kitchen. “Now what’s on with you and 17?” she asks, before teaching him how to cook roller fish without waiting for an answer.</p><p> </p><p>“212<sup>th</sup>’ll be here at the end of the week,” 17 tells Fox as he tugs him down to slot in on top of him on the couch after a long day of idiocy. “’ll you be okay rooming up with Cody?”</p><p>Fox makes himself pause before he can say yes on automatic. The question isn’t for permission, it’s nothing so easy. No, it’s about if Fox is well enough or not. He’s become used to his Numbers in his space, this last two weeks, but even after sabacc nights he’s shaky and flinches at near everything.</p><p>Can he handle a couple nights with no Numbers, only Cody in his space? If he has a panic attack, can he let himself trust Cody to handle it? Can he keep to the schedule he’s put himself on, checking comm messages from Coruscant every other day, without the people he’s letting hold him together?</p><p>“I need to try,” he eventually relents, shoving his face into 17’s neck. “If I don’t try, I’ll regret it.”</p><p>17 hums, more of a rumble in his chest that shakes everything inside of Fox. “If you need to, you can come crash our bunk room. 6’ll probably be up all night over there, worrying about you.”</p><p>“And you?” he asks, eyelashes fluttering against the Alpha’s jaw and makes his breath hitch.</p><p>“I trust Cody,” 17 says, the words coming out like a crashing wave. “He’ll try to take care of you, even if we won’t warn him. Anyone outside my old squad and that might not be the case,” he admits. “I might be up all night with 6, then.”</p><p> </p><p>Fox only realizes that the 212<sup>th</sup> has arrived because General Ti swings by for midmeal, ostensibly to see the cadets’ progress. He’s been keeping her updated on scores and asking for advice on teaching, while she’s been gone.</p><p>She draws him off to eat with General Kenobi, but none of the 212<sup>th</sup> officers are present. They’ve probably all set about bothering instructors and little siblings.</p><p>Kenobi smiles and laughs but always looks mournfully at Fox and it takes far longer than it should for him to figure out that Kenobi feels guilty. Which is straight up stupid.</p><p>He goes back to running his Guard cadets through tech drills for the afternoon, slipping back to the apartment when they break for the day.</p><p>Cody is in the kitchen, looking bemused at the leftovers in the fridge. He looks up and waves to Fox. “Still alive, there?” he greets, shutting the fridge.</p><p>Fox crosses over the now bare living area floor to give his old friend a brief hug. “Not for lack of effort,” he mutters, leaning against the counter.</p><p>Cody nods, pursing his lips. “17 said you’ve not been doing great.”</p><p>“17,” Fox says, “Is probably underselling it so you don’t worry too much.”</p><p>Cody’s eyes flick over to him, frown growing deeper. “What happened?”</p><p>Fox shakes his head, staring into the empty air above the sink where 29 usually gets groans and lectures from eating pasta right out of the transpariplast leftover containers. “I don’t even know. I just showed up here bloody and out of my head and they took me in.”</p><p>Cody sighs. “I honestly wasn’t sure what to be prepared for. Thorn and Thire said you’re here and you’re sick, and I was worried I’d be coming to find you about to be decomm’d. Then General Ti tells me you’re training Guards while you’re here and I start wondering if you were just too ill to go on the last transport. Then 17 warns me there really is something wrong.”</p><p>Fox curls his lips and starts stripping off armor. “They’re talking about fixing leave for the Guard, making it more about training over here for bursts,” he lies. Then, with a little more truth, “I’m the prelude, but it sounds like that’s more the case if I decide to go back and get cleared for this next transport.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Fox taps a finger against the counter. “Public perception on Coruscant isn’t good. Especially not with CorSec making us do their jobs and then slacking off and pointing fingers. And <em>especially</em> not with the Chancellor putting us in the worst positions. Like I said, I got here with an untreated gash in my side and terrible dehydration, but I’m also having to recover mentally. It’s not good, Kot’ika. I’m…I’m not well.”</p><p>“But good enough the Kaminoans won’t decommission you?” Cody asks, earnest and practically begging.</p><p>Fox smiles. “I’m too good at my job for them to risk losing that. They’ve accepted Ti’s request I do the Guard training on their end. Now we’re just waiting for the Chancellor to sign off.”</p><p> </p><p>“How did,” 29 asks lazily, “You pick the name Fox?”</p><p>6 looks up, at that, pursing their lips together.</p><p>Cody, bemused by the Numbers’ arrival in the apartment for latemeal, glances over at where Fox has shoved himself into the windowsill, leg’s buttressing him from where they’re firm against 17’s shoulders, since the Alpha is sitting under the sill.</p><p>Fox is clicking through his comm messages, deleting Senate pleas for his return wholesale and sending the other Commanders bits of advice and confirmation of his continued life. “It was just after ARC training—right before the war. Prime took me aside and warned me that Coruscant rules are strict and I’d need to work around them, not bend and bounce off them. I asked him what he should do and he said I was cunning enough to play I wasn’t a fox in the henhouse. None of the other names had ever stuck, but that one did.”</p><p>“Because Prime gave it to you?” 42 asks.</p><p>“No,” Cody says, shaking his head. “Prime would give all sorts of nicknames but sometimes he’d just… I don’t know—He knew I was Kote even when I said Cody, and Neyo hadn’t told anyone but us his name, when he decided on it, and the next morning 6 called him it and said Prime had said it.”</p><p>6 perks up. “I remember that, yeah. He’d trip over Bacara’s number all the time, correct himself, but then Bacara comes out with his name and lo and behold, it’s the one Prime’d slip up with.”</p><p>“Time didn’t work right, around him,” 17 says, stopping any further examples from coming out. “Said it was something in the blood. Don’t think he even realized he was telling me, at least not scrappy, just broke his nose, 7-year-old me.”</p><p>Fox thinks back to the glassy look at the edge of Prime’s gaze during their discussion about Coruscant and the Guard. It had been familiar, even then, because sometimes that’s where Fox was too. And Prime had always been one to snap him out of things, out of the states that clung around him even now.</p><p>“Huh,” Fox says dimly, as he can’t bring himself to mind.</p><p> </p><p>17 finds Fox on the couch the next morning, early before the lights start acting like they’re on a planet where sunlight is a daily occurrence. He’d given the bedroom, unused so often, to Cody the night before. For the best, considering the number of times he’d startled awake.</p><p>“Really?” the Alpha grunts, though he eels under the blankets to press Fox against the cushions of the couch.</p><p>“Didn’t want to bother him,” Fox says, wedging the crown of his head under 17’s chin.</p><p>“You wouldn’t’ve,” 17 assures him gruffly, callused fingers rucking up the edge of his uppers to press against his spine. He falls back asleep to the rhythmic Mando’a of 17 counting his vertebrae.</p><p> </p><p>Cody voluntells a few of his officers and no short number of his troopers to be figures in Fox’s cadets’ street exercises. The two of them watch from a cozy observation room, flicking through screens and sending chiding lectures to cadets and grown troopers alike.</p><p>“You seem better than last time I saw you,” Cody admits mournfully in a fallow period. “I wonder why I let you get away with it, since you were really doing that bad. I just…didn’t notice.”</p><p>“You hadn’t ever seen me on lock,” Fox replies, before taking a moment to call 5922 out for being short with a private who is enjoying playing a senator—dramatic but still nicer than any Senator Fox know s would be to a clone. “Tell yours to be meaner.”</p><p>Cody flinches. “I’d seen you here, before the war.” He hesitates but sends out the call. When one of his talks back, he lets Fox reply.</p><p>“You personally may be nice to the Guard, and thoughtful, but Coruscant isn’t. And neither are a lot of your brothers on leave,” he hisses. “They need to be prepared for that.”</p><p>Cody recoils into the nest of blankets they’ve turned the bench seat into.</p><p>His troopers are similarly silent, letting that sink in. Then they get back to work, gritting derision at the baby siblings they wouldn’t have thought otherwise about mocking if they were graduated and on Coruscant.</p><p>Fox settles back against Cody, sighing and pulling up his notes to take down another tic for General Ti about 5922’s attitude. He doesn’t want to pass this kid only for Stone or Thire to have to send him back for decommissioning. He wishes Prime were here, because that man could always put a presumptive, arrogant trooper back on the road to not getting themselves and others killed. They’d end up grumpy, sure, but they were effective. Cody has one that Fox remembers getting put through the ringer—Boil.</p><p>Cody winces as Boil, as one of the officers thrown in to add effective obstacles, gets pissed off with 5922’s behavior and just tosses the kid through some crates.</p><p>Fox reaches over and snatches Cody’s comm to tell Boil, “Bravo, 10/10, please get it through his head not to act like that, I am begging,” in the flattest tone possible.</p><p>Boil snickers through the comm, probably thinking exactly what Fox was, about Prime. “How come you haven’t scared him straight, Commander?” he asks, but it’s not a teasing or chiding tone.</p><p>Fox stares blankly at the screens. “Wait, like,” he mutters. Louder, he asks, “You seriously think I could do that?”</p><p>Boil snorts. “Why else would Prime have had you on staff for those things? You were too slippery to get caught with some of our bullshit.”</p><p>Fox taps his stylus against the screen of the datapad. “I’ll think about it,” he tells Boil. “Hey, I’ll spot you a weak spot on Thorn if you toss the brat into the two coming around the corner.”</p><p>Cody shoots him a look halfway between amusement and annoyance. “You’re encouraging rowdiness,” he intones, before breaking out into a fit of snickering.</p><p>Fox smiles.</p><p> </p><p>Fox should bring the Prime thing up to 6, who knows him best, or 17, who knew Prime best.</p><p>“Apple, you got a minute?” he asks, following the gaggle of Littles streaming out of the room with his eyes.</p><p>“Sure,” she says cheerfully, swanning over to loop an arm around his shoulders. “What’s happening?”</p><p>He lets her drag him to the Alpha mess, which is only about twice the size of his apartment kitchen and taken up mostly by a fridge, a reheater, and a pile of couches. No one’s there, right now, which is a relief. “You know how Prime used to scare the dumbass kids straight? The ones that were always just on the edge of getting others killed?”</p><p>Apple purses her lips, depositing him on a couch and heading to the fridge, coming back with a pair of beers. “I think this is going to be an alcohol kind of conversation.”</p><p>Fox takes one but doesn’t drink it. “Probably,” he admits.</p><p>“Yeah, I know about the remedials he did,” Apple says, dropping down next to him. “What’s this about, Fox’ika?”</p><p>“One of the 212<sup>th</sup>’s LTs was one. He asked why I hadn’t taken up doing it.”</p><p>Apple frowns, head tilting. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“He’d bring me in to watch or help sometimes,” he admits, a little self-conscious. “Boil, the LT, said he thought Prime was training me.”</p><p>“I don’t think any of us could do what Prime did in those things,” Apple says, looking around the room before taking a drink. “What he did…”</p><p>“In those moments it was like he knew everything, like he could tell what you were going to do, say, think, before it happened,” Fox continues for her, settling back into the couch. “He lived fifteen different moments at once, sometimes. 17 said he didn’t experience time like the rest of us. Time didn’t work right, around him.”</p><p>Apple squints at him. “It doesn’t for you, either, does it?”</p><p>Fox moves his lip ring. “It makes the dissociation worse.”</p><p>“I’m sure it does,” she says, concerned and dry all at once. “Kark, kid.”</p><p>“If I can figure out how to master it, though,” he suggests lightly, “I might be able to fix that.”</p><p>Apple takes it in, nods along, then takes a deep breath. “You need to talk to General Ti, then. I think her meditation thing might help.”</p><p>Fox considers that, taps his finger against the unopened beer bottle in his hand, then nods. “Alright, then. That’s what I’ll do.”</p><p> </p><p>Cody is leaving, the Numbers are moving back into the apartment, and Fox is stuck in a storage closet with 17 while two of the trainers turn the air outside blue with curses.</p><p>17 sticks his nose, cold from dragging the ARC students through the winter rain outside despite wearing his bucket during, into Fox’s neck. It’s just enough of a shock that Fox flinches out of wherever his mind was going thanks to the background noise. “Better?” he murmurs against Fox’s skin.</p><p>“Corpse thief,” Fox mutters back, shifting so one of his thighs is against the codpiece of 17’s armor.</p><p>17 grins in response. “Could get caught making out like cadets,” he offers blithely.</p><p>“It’s certainly the more interesting option.” Fox tilts his head away from 17, giving more access to his neck. “At best those idiots are boring.”</p><p>17 pulls back, traces the lines of Fox’s face with his gaze, then leans back down to rest his forehead on Fox’s shoulder. “You having latemeal with Master Ti?”</p><p>Fox hasn’t had a chance to tell any of the Numbers about that yet, but he supposes Colt and the rest of Rancor might have passed the news they know around by now. “We’re going over score results from throwing the 212<sup>th</sup> at them.”</p><p>Hands dip with practiced ease under his kama to press into the skin between the plates of his leg armor. “Good.”</p><p>“6 is going to smother me tonight,” he complains. “I swear, they treat me more like a Little the longer I’m here.”</p><p>The cursing in the hall fades enough that 17 pulls him out, aims him off towards where the 212<sup>th</sup> is loading their new shinies. “I’d do it to mine,” the Alpha reveals easily. “Maybe not the same tone, but I take care of them. 6 takes care of theirs too.”</p><p>Cody is waiting for them, accepting a brief Keldabe from 17 before pulling Fox into a longer one. “I’ll spread the word that you’re doing alright,” he promises.</p><p>“I’ll keep you in the loop,” Fox says.</p><p>“Keep him in line, Fox,” Cody says of 17. To 17, he requests, “Keep him safe, 17.”</p><p>“Not a problem,” 17 grumbles, pleased, before scrubbing a hand through Cody’s hair and sending him off.</p><p> </p><p>General Ti makes note of Fox’s further observations about his cadets with a displeased hum, a few flicks of her lekku, and a general air of disappointment. “We haven’t had so many of those that I noticed going out,” she admits, “But some of them have come back for reconditioning or decommissioning, for reasons I cannot fully protest. Then there are reports of bad behavior getting squads killed. I don’t know why, statistically, there are less from those who passed through before.”</p><p>Fox hesitates, but tells her eventually, “I think I know.”</p><p>Ti listens with rapt attention as he explains Jango’s remedial sessions, his observations of them, his observations <em>from</em> them, and how the descriptions the Alphas have given him about what Jango’s behavior and the similarities to his own might mean.</p><p>“I’ve been wondering,” she says as he winds down, “About the positive impact of meditation on your mental state. I was going to ask to teach you once I returned, but I can see why it might be even more beneficial in the face of this. I might have to change how I teach you, though.”</p><p>“And the cadets?” he asks.</p><p>Ti sighs. “I wish it wasn’t necessary, but I have to also admit that even at the Temple there are punishments and remedial classes for initiates and padawans, even knights and masters, who start putting others in danger for their own ego.”</p><p>“I don’t know about the other kinds of classes, but I do find it…insulting that none of the cadets on track for the Guard actually understand what is going on when they’re on Coruscant. We have the highest number of wiped out squads, percentage wise. A big number of those are mainly shinies, even though we try to put veterans in charge of those squads.</p><p>“We were made for war and yet we’re piled on duties of policing. All someone has to do is imply that they even think the Seps are involved, and it’s a reason to go on our desks.” Fox traces the edge of the table they’re sitting at. “Scapegoats and military police. That’s what we’ve been made into, instead of a planetary exo-defense.” He drops his fingers down, feeling the water vapor in the air part with the cutting of the air.</p><p>Ti’s eyes track the movement, body predator still but concern and compassion permeating the air around them. “Several Senators are already gathering evidence connecting the Sith to the Separatists.”</p><p>“Good,” Fox says, biting at his lip ring. “That’s good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Commander?” one of the younger cadets in the Guard track says, voice quiet as she approaches Fox after he’s released them all to latemeal. “I had a question.”</p><p>“About?” he asks, shuffling flimsi sheets around and into a neat pile. They’re assignments on proper report procedure.</p><p>“Uh, well…”</p><p>He waits, continues getting things together so he doesn’t put her on the spot.</p><p>“Half my squad didn’t have names until today, me and… Well, he got his name today.”</p><p>Fox pauses, not thinking of the naming that happened today thanks to one of the ARCs tripping over the cadet but instead thinking of long ago when Rex met Jango for the first time. It had been after an incident where one of his new squad had made himself destined for a remedial course. Rex had wanted to plead his new squad mate’s case, even though it had been his own safety at risk.</p><p>He’d stumbled over his words, nearly burst out crying. Jango had taken as much pity as he ever did, handed an exhausted Boba off to Fox, and offered Rex anything but that squad mate’s absolution. Even the opportunity to leave Kamino and not be part of the army.</p><p>Rex had, instead, asked for a name—he was the only one in his new squad without one.</p><p>Fox looks at his cadet, who is just a little older, hair just dark enough to be an acceptable mutation instead of a suspect one. He looks at her, really looks at her, and sees an ARC in Guard red but not on Coruscant, laughing with siblings. One of the siblings opens their mouth, says…</p><p>“Geneva.”</p><p>She stares up at him, eyes big, mouth agape, then darts forward to hug him. “Thank you, Commander.”</p><p>He pats her shoulder and sends her off to latemeal.</p><p>He gets back to the apartment late and is surprised to find it empty besides whoever is in the shower. It cranks off as he’s stripping off his armor. By the time his upper armor is off, soft steps are padding in behind him.</p><p>He looks up at 17, who just has a towel slung around his hips. If he doesn’t look up, he’ll just follow the cut of his abdomen down to the towel. “Where’s everyone else?”</p><p>“Drinking with the Little-keepers,” 17 explains.</p><p>“You’re not with them?”</p><p>“Second to last test is in the morning.”</p><p>Fox hums, drops his hands to finish taking the rest of his armor off, only for 17 to catch one.</p><p>“Let me?” he asks, gentle as he rubs small circles into the palm of Fox’s hand with his thumb.</p><p>Fox’s breath catches, but he still says, “Alright.” His eyes fall shut as he listens to the swish of his unbuckled kama, feels the trailing fingers that sneak under the plates covering his thighs and lift them away. “I want you to take one of my cadets, for the next round,” he says, huffing as 17’s fingers press into the space at the back of his knees.</p><p>“Not the bratling.”</p><p>“No. I wouldn’t do that to you.” His fingers find 17’s hair, weave themselves in without his permission. “She’s not this graduation, for the Guard. If you take her for the next class, she can finish the last part of Guard training just a session late.”</p><p>17’s fingers linger on his greaves. “You saw something?”</p><p>“Rex asked Jango to name him.” He breathes out as 17 pulls the greaves off, lifts his foot to pull the boot off. “Geneva asked me to name her.”</p><p>He remembers, vaguely, that Rex went into ARC training before his graduation. It’s a belated realization, considering the argument he’s making.</p><p>17 catches the line at the same time, chuckling. “Yes, you saw something. I’ll take her.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Fox opens his eyes as 17 straightens back up. 17’s hands are warm on his jaw as their foreheads press together.</p><p>17 drips off after that, returning in a pair of soft sleep pants. He pulls Fox, leftovers and flimsis in hand, onto the couch, ensconcing himself in his datapad while Fox leans into him and grades.</p><p>Fox reads the more ridiculous passages aloud, answered with bits of a series of microfiction stories that 17 is making his way through.</p><p>It will only be the two of them, that night. The others only come back after a night drinking if Fox is going to be alone, otherwise.</p><p>“It’ll be warmer in the bedroom,” 17 says eventually, sliding down on the couch so he can curl an arm around Fox’s middle and pull him close.</p><p>Fox hums his agreement, scribbling a final grade down and setting the flimsi to the side. As he’s drawing his hand back, 17 catches it again, this time pressing his lips to the knuckles.</p><p>Again, Fox’s breath catches in his throat and he curls into the Alpha, drawn in by 17’s gravity.</p><p>“You’re too skinny,” 17 gruffs, dropping his lips to Fox’s wrist. “Too quiet, too scared. Not helpless, but you could use the help. Bleeding and half out of your mind. And all I could think was how much I hated that damn planet for breaking something so beautiful.”</p><p>As 17’s lips trail further down. Fox exhales. “You said I couldn’t ask you again, whether you meant more than just keeping me together, until I could sass you back.”</p><p>“The memory on you…” The Alpha chuckles, reeling him in to kiss his neck. “I think we’re well past that, considering our games with 29.”</p><p>“Well then,” Fox squirms as 17 drags one of his legs up, throws it around his waist, “Do you mean more, being nice to me, than just keeping me together?”</p><p>17’s lips quirk where they’re pressed under his ear. “If Jango and 6’d not’ve had my hide, I’d have karked the pretty clever thing that graduated my first class. Then all of a sudden, that pretty clever thing is falling apart in my arms? I didn’t stand a chance.”</p><p>“Well,” Fox breathes, “What will you do about it now?”</p><p>17’s grin as he pulls back from Fox is feral. “Just tell me stop if it gets too much, sweetheart.”</p><p> </p><p>Fox drags select members of his class (those that don’t need to redo their assignments) to watch 17 test the ARCs. Geneva is one of them.</p><p>She’s pressed close to the window of the viewing area, eyes wide as the ARC candidates hit targets as they go through the obstacle course.</p><p>17 smirks at him over her head, then offers her the datapad that changes placement of obstacles and targets.</p><p>Fox rolls his eyes but doesn’t stop them, instead watching the others as the course shifts in front of them. The ARC candidates all take it well, at this point, though Fox’s cadets are aghast. The disbelief morphs to awe at the skills the ARCs show off.</p><p>17 lets the cadets file down the stairs to greet their new heroes, hip checking Fox as he dons his helmet. “It’ll be good for them,” he says of his own students. “Some of them didn’t score as well as they wanted to.”</p><p>“They passed though,” Fox says, smiling and tapping his bracer against 17’s. “That’s how you know they did.”</p><p>The tilt of 17’s helmet is wry. “You got a near perfect score and beat yourself up for days on that one point.”</p><p>Fox snorts. “Didn’t expect you to remember that.”</p><p>They follow the cadets who are doing their level best not to pass out in excitement as the ARC candidates cheerfully accept compliments and answer questions.</p><p>One, the one with the five on his forehead whose sweet smile kept Fox from shattering between Bric and 17, looks up at them with a grin, having taken off his bucket to enjoy the rain. “Commander Fox!”</p><p>His numberless twin looks up sharply at that waving. The wave stops after a moment, though, paused in midair as he inspects Fox and 17 behind his vizor.</p><p>Fox shoots him a disapproving frown, hoping to cut off any rumors that might circulate from that one’s turning wheels. 17 breaks any chance of that, though, by resting his hand on Fox’s hip.</p><p>He’ll have to get him back later.</p><p>“So,” he pitches to his cadets, instead, “Who wants to be ARC?”</p><p>Hands shoot up excitedly, waving slightly. Fox lets his amusement drip off of him.</p><p>“If you keep your scores up, and do well in your first months on Coruscant, I’ll work with the other Guard commanders to get you placed,” he promises. “Come one, let’s let them cool down.”</p><p>He slips away with his cluster of one-day-red ducklings. When they return to the training room, he collects the redone assignments and lets the tales of the ARCs filter through. Before he can pretend to start grading or chide them to settle before midmeal, a knock comes at the door and the two twins peak in.</p><p>“Commander Fox?” the numberless one asks, helmet off and showing a face trying to hide mischief.</p><p>Fox looks askance at the two. “If you want to play with your little siblings so badly, I’ll send you to the Littles’ trainers.”</p><p>The numbered one has the presence of mind to look abashed. “Just a question for you, sir.”</p><p>Fox heaves a sigh, the drama of it gaining titters from some of the younger students, and steps out into the hall with them.</p><p>“We’ll be going back to the 501<sup>st</sup>, when we graduate, sir,” the numbered one starts.</p><p>501<sup>st</sup>, Rex’s legion.</p><p>“And Fives was going to kick himself if he never talked to you,” the numberless one adds, with a wicked grin.</p><p>Fives-apparently ducks his head, a twist in his fingers promising that he’ll be getting his brother back later. “But, uh. I wanted to say that I always admired you, the couple times we were on leave on Coruscant. Got caught up in plenty of stuff you deserve an apology for having to deal with.”</p><p>Fox smiles, slightly, and reaches out to touch Fives’s cheek. “Got a bit of a crush, lil’in?” he teases.</p><p>Fives flushes and, off to the side, his brother chokes. “Yessir,” Fives says, ducking his head further and melting into Fox’s touch. “Sorry sir. Echo said I should tell you, at least.”</p><p>Fox pats Fives’s spaulder. “Not the first and not the last, I’m afraid. I can’t give you anything besides acknowledgment, either.”</p><p>“You’re with Alpha-17,” apparently-Echo interjects, a quiet half-statement-half-query.</p><p>Fox glances over at him. “17 doesn’t have a monopoly on my feelings, has no say in them at all. I just don’t love easy. That’s all.”</p><p>Echo purses his lips but nods. It’s contemplation more than disbelief.</p><p>“And anyways, you’re going back to the 501<sup>st</sup> soon,” Fox reminds them. “And I’m staying on Kamino. There are plenty of other commanders to get catch your competency kink’s attention.”</p><p>The two choke in tandem before breaking out into light laughter.</p><p>“But really, Commander,” Echo says, knocking his wrist against Fox’s shoulder. “17 can get it.”</p><p>Fox snorts and shakes his head. “You’re taking my cadets to midmeal, for that.”</p><p>The two perk up and happily take the younger clones out of Fox’s hands.</p><p> </p><p>General Ti teaches Fox to meditate by holding to his arms from a dock and dunking him into the chaos of the Kaminoan sea.</p><p>For a moment, everything just…is.</p><p>He sees Jango’s cautious hands scrubbing through a toddler Boba’s hair, sees a man who doesn’t look so different from them with gold on his brow, sees person after person until he finds himself standing before a man with green stripes and detailed tattoos on his skin, in beskar’gam painted blue and green, and a woman in billowing reds and the same earlier gold on her brow. The two smile, then their hands are shoving Fox back through the water until he comes swinging up.</p><p>“Well?” Ti asks. “Does it give you a starting place?”</p><p>Fox nods. “Almost automatic.”</p><p>“Do you think you can recreate it without…” she trails off, glancing at the storm-rough smile.</p><p>He scrunches up his face, thinking. “I think so. The sensation of being still in a storm.”</p><p>She thinks, then agrees.</p><p>“There’s another thing,” he adds, before the return inside.</p><p> </p><p>17 greets Fox with a kiss that tugs on his lip ring, drawing delighted jeers from the other Numbers. “Hello there,” the Alpha mutters.</p><p>Fox raises an eyebrow. “You really have spent too much time with General Kenobi.”</p><p>“Hmm, well I heard you got some admiration today,” he redirects, dragging him to the couch.</p><p>“Oh, this should be good,” 6 cheers from the kitchen, over a pan of frying fish.</p><p>“The 501<sup>st</sup> twins, you mean?” Fox asks, pitching it so 6, 29, and 42 all hear him.</p><p>29 and 42 look up from where they’re playing a strategy game that 29 and 6 are considering introducing to their charges.</p><p>“No,” 42 gasps dramatically. “The ones who always volunteered when 17 needed help corralling you?”</p><p>17 kicks him. “Hush, I thought they were just suck ups.”</p><p>“Oh they certainly were,” 29 jibes. “Though I thought they’d have had crushes on 17.”</p><p>“Fives,” Fox clarifies, “Is the one who confessed, and it was apparently due to my actions back on Coruscant. Jury is still out on who, uh, Echo? On who Echo is crushing on.”</p><p>“They’re both certainly earnest,” 17 allows, slipping his fingers under the hem of Fox’s uppers. “I wanna tell Rex.”</p><p>Fox rolls his eyes but doesn’t deflect the wandering fingers. “You just want to torture him with the knowledge he raised a couple brats with a praise kink.”</p><p>The resulting surround sound cackling makes him crack a smile.</p><p>“So now that you two are,” 42 doesn’t finish the sentence, only moves his eyebrows up and down.</p><p>Fox tosses a balled up sheet of flimsi at him.</p><p>“Okay, but really,” 6 interjects, “Should we move our stuff out of here?”</p><p>Fox shoots his old squad commander an aghast look. “No!”</p><p>“No, you’re stuck with us,” 17 agrees, amusement clear.</p><p> </p><p>Two days into the new status quo sees Fox waking up sprawled half atop 17, bare legs tangled as the deep blue light on the pre-dawn hours filters through the window. He’s caught in how purple it is, spilling across their naked skin and the carved wood of the bedframe before he realizes that the light isn’t purple, that he and 17 are in sleep clothes and in the middle of the cluster of other Numbers on the makeshift mattress-pallet in the apartment on Kamino.</p><p>His sudden shift makes 17 blink blearily at him.</p><p>“S’your rest day, sweetheart,” the Alpha reminds him. “Existential crises when it’s time for 42 t’wake up.”</p><p>Fox relents in dipping his chin against 17’s collarbone. It only feels like a moment later when 42’s alarm blares, sending he and the two commander squad teachers up to scramble their armor on.</p><p>42’s ARC groups are specialized more towards stealth and infiltration and they’re at a half class delay compared to 17’s groups. This means that, while 17 and his ARC candidates are on break after the second to last test and following cool down sessions, he has to go run his students into the ground.</p><p>Fox’s schedule is closer to 6 and 29’s schedules. Most of the time it’s half days off, but every month or so there’s a full rest day scheduled. It’s supposed to promote good habits in the cadets. Considering that’s been the situation since Fox was a cadet, he’s not sure it works.</p><p>He’ll still take his early morning curled up against 17, even if he’d rather go for a run or bother General Ti about the vision he had earlier.</p><p>The others quietly jeer at them as they leave, laughing when Fox flips them off.</p><p>“Can I talk to you about something?” Fox asks after a space of silence once they’ve gone out the door.</p><p>17’s movements are still sleepy, but his attention is sharp. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>Fox taps his fingers on 17’s pectoral. “Boba Fett. No one’s seen him since Geonosis.”</p><p>17’s movements aren’t sleepy, now, because he’s gone completely, unnaturally still. “No one has seen him since Geonosis,” he repeats slowly, rage and disbelief building.</p><p>“I asked General Ti to put some feelers out, see if someone can find him. I just…know he’s not dead. But I also get a feeling he’s alone. He needs us, Ventee.”</p><p>“He does,” 17 agrees, tugging Fox close again. “So what do we do when someone finds him?”</p><p>“Bring him home,” Fox says. “Have him stay with us.”</p><p>17 makes a small noise. “Raise a warrior.”</p><p>Fox starts, then thinks it through and nods. “Raise a warrior,” he echoes quietly.</p><p>17 buries his nose into the back of Fox’s neck. “We’ll tell the others, figure it all out to make a good place for him. Maybe we can get some other cadets together, once the war is over.”</p><p>Fox smiles, pulling 17’s arms tight around his middle.</p><p> </p><p>The other Numbers, first, are brought into the plan. They’re delighted, though just as aghast as 17 was, to find out about Boba. From there, they expand to their neighbor Little-keepers.</p><p>General Ti juggles interrogating contacts about Boba and keeping up with the Jedi Council’s investigation of the Sith. Most of the proper investigation is politicians searching for evidence of Separatist collusion, gaining allies, chipping away at emergency powers.</p><p>The break in the Boba case happens first.</p><p>A pirate friend of Kenobi’s has eyes on the boy and manages to impress on him that his siblings on Kamino are looking for him and want him. From the sound of it, they’ll need to keep an eye on his communications and his interactions with any Jedi.</p><p>17’s ARCs have passed their final test and are waiting for assignments and being returned to their original legions, so they’re free. And 17, with finagling from Ti and Kenobi, takes some of them to get Boba.</p><p>Fox doesn’t sleep, while they’re gone. 6 would chastise him if they had a leg to stand on. While they wait, General Ti conspires with them to switch apartments. Hers is bigger, was once Jango’s apartment. They get the old stuff out of storage, redo the front room to be a more official bedroom that will keep the Numbers and two of the Little-Keepers comfortable. Jango’s-then-Ti’s bedroom is repurposed for an away space for Boba, with a bed for the boy to sleep with or without one of the adults. Boba’s old bedroom, used under Ti as a guest bedroom, becomes the “we need some alone time” room for the adults. The goal is to make the apartment useable and somewhat familiar for Boba, but not too familiar to cause more grief.</p><p>Fox spends the day that the ARC group will come back to Kamino testing his cadets, helping 42 schedule the 501<sup>st</sup>’s arrival to pick up their ARCs and a new batch of shinies, and meditating with Ti on the remedial class setup. By latemeal, he’s dragging his feet back to the apartment.</p><p>There are people already there, though.</p><p>17 sweeps him up before he can fully comprehend who is back, drawing out exhausted laughter. From there, he’s deposited back on the floor where he finds himself looking down at Boba Fett.</p><p>The air between them crackles and slows. Boba hiccups, trembles, then launches himself into Fox’s arms. He feels like he’s covered in silt and heavy fabric that catches on his skin, but Fox gently starts to unhook the feeling from the ten-year-old.</p><p>“Hey, little one,” Fox murmurs into his crying brother’s curls. “Hey, you’re safe now.”</p><p> </p><p>The addition of Boba in their lives, in their space, necessitates changes.</p><p>The first night, Boba curls up with Fox and 17, gangly-growing legs digging into their stomachs in a box braced sprawl. The next morning, 6 cooks eggs they’ve been saving to bake things and 29 futzes with a blender to make smoothies. 42 and 17 take Boba for the morning while they prep for the arrival of several commanders coming to pick up graduates and drop off students. Fox picks him up for midmeal and promises sweets for successfully intimidating Guard cadets.</p><p>Boba is quiet, clinging to Fox at first. Then a switch flips and he’s playing the arrogant brat, too smart for his own good.</p><p>5922 nearly starts a fight with him and it’s the final straw for Fox.</p><p>Fox digs the brat into the ground, caught before he could throw a punch. It’s not like Boba would have let himself be hit, but it’s the principle of the thing. Fox digs his fingers into 5922’s skin, digs teeth into his soul, and waits through the flailing.</p><p>It billows like smoke, all of the reasoning this idiot has for his behavior. Feelings of being “too good” for the Guard, anger at the trainers for not seeing his potential the way he thought they should, derision to Fox for being ill and coming to Kamino to teach, frustration at Fox’s grading of his assignments, disbelief that any Little-aged kid could think to snark at him like Boba did.</p><p>Fox digs in further, pouring in his frustration that 5922 refuses to put effort into any non-martial tests, his embarrassment that one of his cadets would be so callus and arrogant, his fury about the indiscriminate targeting of others, and his disappointment and dread that 5922 was going on a road that would get him and others killed. With that final thought, a vision comes unbidden of just that happening and of, at the end, no one remembering 5922 besides a minute assumption that he must have existed at one point.</p><p>When he releases the boy, there is blood on his fingernails and he cannot get his face to change from the impassive stone that Prime always had at the end of a remedial session. He’s exhausted, which explains why Prime would schedule remedials for specific times and then near pass out for hours after.</p><p>Boba attaches himself to Fox’s side, then.</p><p>“Get to the damn medbay,” Fox growls at 5922. “I don’t want to see you back in this classroom for the next cycle. Out.”</p><p>5922 scrambles up, shaking with disbelief and regret, and books it out of the classroom.</p><p>Fox tugs Boba into a brief hug, reassuring himself that his brother is safe and sound. The air around the boy shakes like a sandglass, sparkling with offshoot colors. He smooths over the edges, reassuring the young boy that everything is okay. He sighs, then, and disengages to address his cadets.</p><p>“Are there any other concerns with Boba Fett looking in on your class?” he drawls. When none come, he nods. “Culture report on one Republic senator’s home. You can work with others who have planets that are related or similar, but you can’t work with anyone who is doing the same planet. If you need help, you have my comm. Free study for the rest of the day.”</p><p>He waits until they all trickle out of room, accepting a few offers of concern given on the way. Once they’re gone, he shakes his head.</p><p>“That could have gone better,” he tells Boba wryly.</p><p>Boba fixes him with a look of annoyance, no matter how it’s bellied by worry. “Would it have worked? Did it work before?”</p><p>Fox glares at him. “Don’t be wise, you’re ten.”</p><p>Boba snickers. </p><p> </p><p>Fox doesn’t ever let it be known, but deep down he absolutely hates General Skywalker. Rex? A baby. Commander Tano? Brightest and bitey-est of the padawans he’s met. The ARCs that have been hanging out pretending Fives isn’t making moony eyes at him? Delights. Senator Amidala? Badass.</p><p>No, it’s just General Skywalker.</p><p>Maybe it’s the man’s closeness to the Sith. Maybe it’s his disregard for life unless it’s someone in his specific tunnel vision. Maybe it’s how Fox usually ended up babysitting Tano whenever she was left alone at the Temple between shuttling among other Masters. Maybe it’s the unnecessary risks he drags the Senator into. Maybe it’s that he just generally treats Fox and the rest of the Guard like shit.</p><p>This all, of course, crashes down on him as he’s watching Skywalker, Tano, Rex, and <em>the Senator</em> disembark the transport ship. He grimaces, squeezing Boba’s shoulder slightly.</p><p>“You’ll like Tano,” he promises the boy, who is still cagey with Jedi even though he’s starting to open up to General Ti and the mind-healer they’ve contacted from the Temple. The repeated exposure this week is giving him is, somehow, helping. “But stay out of Skywalker’s way.”</p><p>“Okay, Fox,” Boba says, face pinched in consternation but preening under Fox’s attention. “Should I go get Fives and Echo?”</p><p>“Yeah, go tell them that their ride is here and I want them out of my house.” He smirks as Boba cackles and takes off.</p><p>Colt meanders over beside him, standing at attention with him as the four visitors enter.</p><p>Fox doesn’t have his bucket on, barely wears it when he’s here unless he’s outside in the wet. He doesn’t even have his upper armor on, today. He was running through anatomy with his cadets, earlier, and hasn’t bothered putting it back on.</p><p>Colt elbows him, grin apparent even with his bucket on.</p><p>“Fek off,” Fox murmurs cheerfully, just loud enough that Colt’s exterior mic will pick it up.</p><p>“Welcome to Kamino,” Colt greets in Basic, electing to ignore Fox except to tease him. He’s given up teasing him about 17 only because General Ti caught on to the pattern that led to Fox’s neck being bitten up.</p><p>“Commanders,” Rex replies, half greeting and half introduction. His gaze lingers on Fox, shoulders laxing in relief. Cody’s been telling tales, then.</p><p>Skywalker’s gaze leaves sticky residue on Fox and he has to be careful to not show his notice of it.</p><p>Tano recognizes him shoots him an apologetic grin. The Senator, however, doesn’t. Fox tries not to take it personally.</p><p>The quick bootsteps of approaching ARC troopers draws all of their attention.</p><p>Boba darts ahead of them, scrambling back into Fox’s grasp with a grin. Echo and Fives are grinning too, cheerfully stopping at attention and snapping sharp salutes at their commanding officers.</p><p>“Alpha-17 is looking for you, sir,” Echo tells Fox glibly, Mando’a flowing smoother than it did when Fox first arrived.</p><p>Fox rolls his eyes in return. The way it’s said, the twins and Boba did absolutely nothing to tell 17 where he was.</p><p>Colt barely suppresses a snicker.</p><p>“How is working with 17?” Rex asks Fox, though he’s eyeing his troopers with a practiced glower, searching out the differences.</p><p>Colt is now having to actively suppress his noises. Fox suspects he’s turned off his vocoder.</p><p>“It’s an experience,” Fox says blandly. Then he nods down the hall. In Basic, “Let’s get you to the guest rooms. Expected departure is based on cloud cover and the reports we’re getting say that’ll probably be clear enough in two cycles. You came in the middle of the winter storms.”</p><p>Senator Amidala attempts to make conversation, succeeding in drawing Colt back out of his giggling isolation. She asks very carefully around Boba and very carefully gets no straight answers. Boba eyes Tano conspiratorially, which is going to give Fox nightmares even if they don’t end up targeting him with pranks.</p><p>Skywalker and Rex in one small apartment, Amidala and Tano in another. At least, that’s what’s on paper. It’s far more likely that Rex and Tano will crash in the big apartment tonight, whether Fox offers or not. Luckily, he was already planning on offering. That does mean, however, that Amidala and Skywalker will likely be staying together. </p><p>He really should stop expecting better of that woman. He can’t quite conceptualize the desire to fix someone. No, that’s 17’s preview, though even then he doubts it’s quite the same.</p><p>Speaking of…</p><p>“Cyar’ika,” 17 croons, leaning to put his chin on Fox’s shoulder.</p><p>Skywalker flinches. Fox didn’t foresee being involved with 17 having such delicious perks.</p><p>17 notices the visitors after a moment, which means that he’s here because Geneva did something in class again instead of wanting to gossip.</p><p>“Ah,” he mutters, scrunching his nose before sighing and standing straight again to the point where he matches Skywalker’s height. “General Skywalker. Senator Amidala. Captain-should-be-a-Commander Rex. And you must be Commander Tano.”</p><p>The corner of Fox’s lip twitches up.</p><p>“Good to see you’re doing well, Alpha,” Skywalker says, mouth twisting as he glances between 17 and Fox.</p><p>Boba, the little shit, uses Fox as a ladder to scramble over to cling to 17’s shoulders. “Ventee,” Boba interjects, determined to demand his caretakers’ attention. “Ventee’buir, Fives said I could…”</p><p>Fox looses the line, too caught off guard that Boba would use that title even to stir up trouble.</p><p>Rex catches it too, though Fox is certain he still doesn’t know who the child using Fox and 17 as climbing equipment is.</p><p>“Luk’ika,” Fox chides, wrangling the boy off of 17 and using the Basic translation of the boy’s name as the basis so as to not draw too much more attention. “You can conspire later.”</p><p>The tens-year-old collapses into dead weight in Fox’s arms, dragging himself down to the floor. “But--.”</p><p>“No,” Fox adds, raising his eyebrows as he looks down at the boy. “I can and will tell 42 to sit on you.”</p><p>Boba gives him a look of betrayal, the drama’alor. “<em>Buir</em>,” he whines, before the word catches up with him and he stutters.</p><p>17 snaps him up. “Hey, how about we go watch Geneva murder some training clankers,” he offers. Then he drops a Keldabe briefly against Fox’s forehead and hustles off without nary a goodbye.</p><p>Fox has to swallow a couple times before he gets control of his voice again. Colt pats him comfortingly on the shoulder.</p><p>“Anyways,” Colt says, setting a fence right there on that topic. “General Ti is expecting at least General Skywalker and Senator Amidala for latemeal. Commander Tano and Captain Rex are free to join, but Rancor will happily entertain you or you can hang out with the Alpha trainers.”</p><p>“Don’t offer my apartment without my permission, Colt,” Fox says, voice flat but bumping Colt’s shoulder. “Tano and Rex are welcome, though,” he adds begrudgingly. He flashes Rex a smile that apparently comes out more broken than he thought, judging by the concern radiating off the CT. “We’re at the end of the hall.”</p><p>“You’re one of the Alphas?” Senator Amidala asks. “I’d only ever met Alpha-er-17 before.”</p><p>“No,” Fox says, not elaborating on what he really is. “I was just viciously adopted.”</p><p>Colt chokes, mostly at the deadpan delivery. “Is that what you’re calling it?” he asks, delighted.</p><p>“17 doesn’t count,” Fox retorts. “6 and 42 and the Little-Keepers, though…” He pauses, evaluates Colt. “Don’t you owe Apple some--.”</p><p>“And I can take you on a tour of the facilities right now, General, Senator,” Colt interrupts.</p><p>Fox lets a lazy grin cross his face as Colt hustles Skywalker and Amidala out the hall. As soon as they’re out of sight, Rex throws his arms around Fox’s shoulders.</p><p>“Glad you’re doing better, brother,” Rex mutters in Mando’a, voice wet.</p><p>Fox squeezes him then steps away, motioning for them to follow him to the apartment.</p><p>Tano is in awe of the front room turned bedroom. “You all sleep in here?”</p><p>“There’s an extra bed in Boba’s study room,” Fox says, switching back to Basic for her and watching the wheels turn in Rex’s head. “We just got him back, so we’re trying to give him some of his own space. If he doesn’t want to sleep with us, he doesn’t have to.”</p><p>Rex leans against the jutting counter that serves as a half wall between the bedroom and the kitchen. “Where was he?”</p><p>“We haven’t asked, yet,” Fox says quietly. “Pirate friend of Kenboi’s got him in touch with us. ARCs went and picked him up. Only been here about a week.”</p><p>“And he’s already calling you Buir?” Rex glances at the pile of flimsi on the counter, old assignments that Fox is using to create a test.</p><p>“That’s the first time. I think it was an accident. After all, we look like Jango and…and we love him as best we can. Kids respond to that. Stisll, he’s probably going to have his first setback from it.”</p><p>“Wait, buir is Mando’a for dad?” Tano asks.</p><p>“Parent,” Fox corrects gently. “No gender.”</p><p>Tano nods in sudden understanding. “So…”</p><p>“Don’t bring it up to him,” Fox advises. When they both nod their ascent, he drops the topic and crosses to the sofa pushed to the wall to make room for the bed. “How’s the Front?”</p><p>Rex scowls. “Things are…Strange. Nothing overt, but we’ve been seeing a lot more interest from senators. Especially if we’re in command.”</p><p>Fox hums, plopping down, unsurprised when Tano flops down next to him. “Death tolls still about the same?”</p><p>“About. Some spikes, some drops. A couple more legions were wiped out, Jedi included. A few complete victories.”</p><p>“And you’re both still alive and kicking.” He pokes Tano’s cheek. “And biting.”</p><p>She grins at him.</p><p>Rex joins them on the couch, curling up against Fox like he’s still half-a-snack and goading Tano into a game on a datapad.</p><p> </p><p>17 and Boba arrive an hour or so later. 17 ruffles a hand over Rex’s buzzed head but looks Fox in the eye and nods to the extra room. They leave Boba to the tender mercies of the 501<sup>st</sup> command and duck back in there.</p><p>“He’s freaking out?” Fox asks, starting to methodically take off 17’s armor.</p><p>He hums, carefully following Fox’s fingers to help with some of the buckles that tend to get stuck. “Quietly, but yeah. It probably won’t be a good night.”</p><p>Fox sighs, fingers slipping beneath duriplast edges to find one of the fiddlier buckles. “Should we offer him a couple nights with the five- or six-year-olds?” he asks, tugging a little harder than necessary.</p><p>“Not tonight. If he’s more on edge tomorrow, we can talk it through with him.” 17 wraps his hands around Fox’s and presses a kiss against the shaking fingers. “When the 501<sup>st</sup> is gone, we’ll talk to him.”</p><p>Fox curses, leaning against the Alpha’s chest.</p><p>“Could have a quickie,” 17 offers cheekily, making Fox flush.</p><p>“Not,” Fox hisses, “With Tano in the apartment.”</p><p>17 hums, walking Fox back into the wall. “What if Skywalker was the one in there.”</p><p>Fox pinches him. “I’d have you take an hour to take me apart.”</p><p>He grins, softly pressing Fox’s wrists against the metal before ducking his head to kiss him. He takes care to tug on Fox’s lip ring as he pulls back, obviously delighted by how breathless Fox is. “I don’t think I’d need that long.”</p><p>“Which is why,” Fox retorts breathlessly, “I’d be loud all through.”</p><p>There’s a quick, polite knock on the door that makes 17 pull away. One of the first things they made sure Boba knew was how to get their attention when they were in this room. Fox pulls himself off the wall as 17 slides the door open.</p><p>Boba looks caught between condescension, like he usually is when he has to interrupt 17 and Fox, and loss.</p><p>Fox makes himself take a deep breath then release it before he catches the boy by the shoulders and aims him down the hall to the study room.</p><p> </p><p>Fox only drags Boba back out to the main room once the boy’s tears are dried and promises have been made for both a real, long discussion with him and 17 and another with the mind-healer.</p><p>The other Numbers have arrived, and Fox is somewhat impressed they’ve kept as quiet as they had. 6 has bullied Rex and Tano into the kitchen, joined by 17 who has cracked open a beer and is obviously teasing Rex. 29 and 42 are sprawled out on the bed, arguing about the qualifications of a commander class assignment.</p><p>Fox helps Boba up on the counter, leaning against it and shooting 17 a significant look until the Alpha grabs another beer from the fridge and hands it off.</p><p>“Oh, he gets one?” Rex asks, affronted.</p><p>“If 17 ever wants to get laid again, yeah, Fox gets one,” 6 says, chortling.</p><p>Rex looks between the two in question, eyes huge. “What?”</p><p>“Oh, get it, Commander,” Tano says, reaching over to fist bump Fox.</p><p>Boba snickers, stealing a slice of muja from 6 while the enbie is laughing. “Yeah, they’re super gross,” he snarks, leaning into Fox’s space.</p><p>Fox scrunches his face at the boy. “Chakaar’ika,” he determines. 17 just smiles.</p><p>Rex huffs. “And does anyone know about this besides present company?”</p><p>“Rancor, of course,” Fox allows. “The ARC class—the graduated one and the current one actually, now that I think about it. Geneva doesn’t tell tales so my class is probably still out of the loop.”</p><p>“General Ti asked about it yesterday,” 17 adds. “I straight up lied.”</p><p>Fox eyes him. “Purposefully and badly?”</p><p>“With a smile.” 17 shoots one of his smugger smiles, likely mimicking the one from the conversation but still taking a moment to lean down to peck Fox’s lips.</p><p>“Can I tell Cody?” Rex asks, having gone through the seven stages of finding out your older brother has sex and coming out at the eighth stage that is only for those who have other older siblings who don’t know about that fact. “Can I tell <em>Ponds</em>?”</p><p>“Oh hoho no,” Fox says, waving a finger in Rex’s grinning face. “You can tell Wolffe, though.”</p><p>17 cackles.</p><p>“No one will believe Wolffe if he spreads it though!”</p><p>“Exactly,” Fox says simply. “Which means when it comes out he was telling the truth…”</p><p>Rex rears back, taking that into consideration. “So, I can tell Wolffe?” he asks 17, just to get all his ducks squared away.</p><p>“Yes, you can tell Wolffe,” 17 assures him indulgently. “Not for two weeks, though.”</p><p>“Two weeks?” Fox asks, head tilted.</p><p>“327<sup>th</sup> is coming by next week,” 6 informs him.</p><p>“If Bly finds out Wolffe was telling the truth instead of already being sworn to secrecy, it’ll be all over the GAR within a twenty block,” 17 informs them with the confidence of a man who had to deal with similar idiocy growing up.</p><p>Fox nods slowly. “See, this is why I was friends with Ponds. It just happened that the rest of Squad 17 came along as a package deal.”</p><p>“Plus one,” 17 adds glibly, taping the top of Rex’s head.</p><p>“No, because I like Rex,” Fox retorts. “6, can Rex be honorarily one of ours?”</p><p>Rex looks pleased. “You, Colt, and Doom? Sure.”</p><p>“You forgot Neyo.”</p><p>“I did not forget Neyo, I purposefully excluded him.”</p><p>“It’d make his crush on Doom weirder, though,” 6 thoughtfully interjects, causing Rex to squawk.</p><p>“Commander Doom?” Tano asks, delighted. “You have a crush on <em>Commander Doom</em>?”</p><p>“I do not,” Rex protests.</p><p>“No, you do,” 17 agrees, nodding sagely. Then he pauses and squints at 6, purses his lips.</p><p>6 smirks back.</p><p>Fox carefully does not say why 6 knows that and does not reveal his own knowledge.</p><p>17 rests his hand on the small of Fox’s back, leaning into he and Boba’s space even while gesturing further into the kitchen with his bottle and, at one point, breaking apart to give Rex a noogie.</p><p>Dinner is similar chaos, piled across the sofa and the bed, Tano and Rex bracketing Fox and 17 respectively while Boba sprawls across their laps. For a couple hours, they simply jeer at ARC training footage from Fives and Echo’s class like it’s a game on the holonet.</p><p>Boba and Tano both fall asleep on Fox, meaning 17 and Rex have to carefully drag all three of them onto the bed. 17 tucks himself on his side next to Boba and Rex lays on his stomach above Fox’s head. 6, 29, and 42 all pile together at 17’s back, limbs occasionally flailing into Rex’s space.</p><p> </p><p>Neither Amidala or Skywalker ask Rex or Tano where they were last night. Fox shoots Rex a very concerned look, but he just shrugs.</p><p>Boba and Tano both tag along for Fox’s class. Normally he would have wondered what they were planning, but he had told Boba he’d be discussing political corruption as a lecture today. He has a feeling Tano is being dragged into some serious thoughts about the Republic, but he can’t exactly care right now.</p><p>“In the Coruscant Guard, you will be doing illegal things for government officials,” Fox starts, causing about half the room to jolt. “You will not be doing it because it’s your job, of course. Like they’d put that in our job description.”</p><p>He strides across the room, hands behind his back. “Can anyone tell me why?”</p><p>One of the brighter cadets from the younger age group, one he thinks would do rather well in spec ops, raises their hand. “Because if we don’t do what they ask us to, they’ll have us written up.”</p><p>“Correct,” Fox agrees, pacing back the other way. “And what happens if you get more than three write ups?”</p><p>“Back to Kamino,” one of the boys getting ready to graduate to the Guard proper grumbles. “Reconditioning.”</p><p>Fox shuts his eyes, nods, but doesn’t continue yet.</p><p>“Decommissioning,” 5922 adds, voice flat and thoughts swirling.</p><p>Fox nods again, stops in the middle of the room, faces them, opens his eyes. For a moment, there’s blood on the floor, a dead woman with a blaster bolt through her head laying in front of him. “Your morality means nothing to them and neither do your lives. Not a hard and fast rule, but you’re much less likely to interact with the politicians that care.”</p><p>“What about the Jedi?” someone near the back asks.</p><p>Tano stiffens in his periphery.</p><p>“The Jedi are on the Front, or in their Temple handling auxiliary,” Fox says, not unkindly. “The Coruscant Guard does not have a Jedi.” He pauses, ducks his head slightly. “If you are fearful of your safety in the Guard, you cannot tell your Commanders. There is the chance that will only put more people in danger.”</p><p>The reoccurring nightmare of shooting Thorn flashes through his head.</p><p>“Instead, if you’re lucky, you’ll be able to meet General Vos. Kiffar, gold tattoos, aversion to sleeves.” Laughter. “Gloves. He helps the Guard sometimes, and he’s fond of the younger ones. Not,” he advises with a small smile, “As fond as he is of Commander Thorn.”</p><p>More laughter.</p><p>“If you are afraid for your safety and you are lucky, you will be able to meet General Vos. I have never asked what happens to those troopers who do, but I know, for most of them, we write them off as dead and Vos doesn’t flinch. If you’re unlucky despite meeting Vos, he will flinch when we write you off as dead.”</p><p>The humor in the room is dead.</p><p>“The Jedi care,” he finishes off this line of thought. “But they are stretched thin. They are less than ten thousand, we are over a million.”</p><p> </p><p>Tano is quiet and contemplative over a cup of caff in the Alpha mess, having come with Fox so he could turn Boba over to one of the Little-Keepers for the afternoon. Fox settles in across the table from her.</p><p>“Did anyone…” She pauses, then pushes through her apprehension. “Did anyone make you do those kinds of things, on Coruscant?”</p><p>Fox sips his own caff. “Yes.”</p><p>She jolts her gaze up, not having expected…no, not having wanted that answer. “Who?” she asks, righteous fury building.</p><p>He shakes his head. “No one you’d be able to do anything about. No one it’s <em>safe</em> for you to do anything about.”</p><p>“I’m a Jedi,” she argues.</p><p>“I didn’t say it wasn’t safe for <em>you</em>.” He doubts it would be either, but it makes her fury drop into a cold well.</p><p>“Oh,” she whispers. “Well shit.”</p><p> </p><p>General Ti looks concerned when he meets with her before latemeal. She brightens when she sees him, though, so he suspects it isn’t about him.</p><p>“How is meditation going?” she asks.</p><p>He pauses to put his thoughts together. It’s easier, since starting. “Fine enough,” he says. “It’s becoming easier to parse through memories.”</p><p>“Good.” She nods, brings a small bag out of her pocket and has him hold out his hand to empty it into. Sea floor pebbles spill out, cradled in his palm. “Want to try this again?”</p><p>Fox huffs but slips his mindset into the eye of the storm around him and lets time fall away. His eyes fall shut and he feels the atmosphere around him diffuse into sparks of green-gold. When he opens his eyes again, the pebbles are floating in complicated constellations around him.</p><p>Ti smiles. “Now you just need to be able to do it actively.”</p><p>Fox smiles back and slowly, painfully slowly and all too fast brings the pebbles back into his hand. From there, he carefully pours them back into their bag.</p><p>“Give my best to Alpha-17 and Boba,” she says cheerfully. “And absolutely none of my best to 42.”</p><p>Fox chuckles. “What did he do?”</p><p>“Oh, he’ll know what he did.” She schools her face. “Actually, just give him this look, tell him it’s from me.”</p><p>Fox rolls his eyes and says his goodbyes, shuffling off to find Boba and take him back to the apartment for latemeal. Later, 42 nods sadly and claims the face is the neutral face of disappointment.</p><p> </p><p>The 501<sup>st</sup> and their ARCs are leaving in a few hours, so Fox feels he’s allowed to be annoyed when 17 drags him off into a secluded storage room.</p><p>“Now is really not the time,” he tries to say, in between kisses. It’s a little exasperating, no matter how nice it is to feel 17’s skin under his hands.</p><p>17 pauses, lifting Fox’s hips and settling him on the edge of a shelf. “Ti thinks Skywalker has gone dark, is going in and out of the dark.”</p><p>Fox stills. “What?”</p><p>“She’s going to contact the Jedi Council to suggest an investigation.” The Alpha then presses as close as he comfortably can to Fox. “But she said he asked about you. First about Commander Fox, for the Chancellor.” The last two words are practically a hiss. “But he also asked about you as in the helmetless ARC commander. He was talking about how rare a Force Sensitive clone must be.”</p><p>Fox feels his blood chill. “He’s going to mention me to the Sith.”</p><p>“There’s not a connection. Tiny Tano thinks it’s funny that her master hasn’t figured out who you are.”</p><p>Fox wraps his arms around 17’s neck, trembles and shakes and cries as he speaks gently but firmly about all the ways they’re protecting Fox. 17 kisses the few tears that run across Fox’s cheeks until he starts giggling, gaining a tired beam.</p><p>“You’re not going back there,” 17 swears.</p><p>“That’s not up to you,” Fox says sadly. He’s exhausted just by the thought. “Don’t risk yourself, because if you’re gone…”</p><p>17’s grip on him tightens. “Ti wanted to make sure you were occupied when they left, otherwise it would be a powder keg next to a malfunctioning blaster. Far too likely for there to be an explosion. But I promise, if something happens and you’re taken, that I’ll stay here, with Boba. I won’t risk you not having anything to come back to.”</p><p>Fox presses a tugging kiss to 17’s lips. “Thank you.”</p><p>“For you, my no matter forever, anything.”</p><p> </p><p>Fox ends up having to comm Rex and Tano to say goodbye, stomach down on the couch and 17 wrapped over his back like a blanket while Boba learns to win against 42 and 29 in a sabacc game.</p><p>Tano pouts a little, at first, but she says her goodbyes and promises to keep an eye on the other Guard Commanders. Rex lingers, though.</p><p>“You look shit,” Rex eventually says.</p><p>Fox raises his eyebrows and shuts his eyes. “Thanks. I got some bad news.”</p><p>“S’why you couldn’t meet us?”</p><p>17 grumbles and pokes his head up over Fox’s shoulder. “Needed holding together.”</p><p>Rex grimaces. “Sorry I couldn’t help.”</p><p>“Not your fault, little brother,” Fox assures him. “Just bad timing.”</p><p>“Still,” Rex protests. “Maybe just…being harder on my troopers about misbehaving on Coruscant. Being easier on you when I was a brat. I don’t… Look, I could have made your life a lot easier and didn’t because I didn’t think about how hard what was happening was on you.”</p><p>“You’re fighting the Seps, kiddo, it’s not on you to make people behave when they’re off the front.”</p><p>“That doesn’t give us an excuse to behave badly,” he shoots back. “Shit, I even… I even bought into some of the bullshit about the Corries. That you have it easier, that you’re just around to keep us in line, that…” Rex lets out a little sob that sends Fox reaching out, despite that Rex is up in a venerator heading off to fight and Fox is down on Kamino being kept and comforted.</p><p>“Rex,” Fox settles for murmuring. “Little one, that is the least of our worries on Coruscant.”</p><p>“Which is why we shouldn’t make it worse,” Rex says, voice cracking. “You… You deserve support.”</p><p>Fox ducks his head; he won’t argue, can’t argue because it’s something that the Alphas, that Rancor, that General Ti and the others who visit have been spending weeks convincing him. “Get some sleep,” he finally requests. “Take some time to put your thoughts in order.”</p><p>Rex nods, wiping his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry, I just… I’m so sorry. And I’m glad you’re doing better.”</p><p>Fox gives him a small smile. “When this is over, we’ll have a talk about all of this, okay?”</p><p>17 hums his agreement into Fox’s back.</p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Rex agrees, letting out a shaky breath.</p><p>“And then we’ll toss you at Doom and see what happens.”</p><p>Rex’s shriek is a gratifying sound to hang up on.</p><p>“He’s going to kill you for that,” 17 grumbles.</p><p>“Mm, which gives you time to pick him up and toss him.”</p><p>Behind them, 29 screeches and Boba cackles.</p><p>Fox takes a deep breath, ready to shove 17 off of his back and snap the child up so he doesn’t cause more trouble, but 17 settles further.</p><p>“He can take care of himself,” 17 reminds him.</p><p>“But can 29?” Fox asks, smirking. Then, pitching his voice louder, he says, “Boba, quiet time.”</p><p>The boy stumbles up and books it to the couch. Fox grunts when more weight presses against his back as he and his datapad settle on 17’s back.</p><p>“What did you win?” 17 asks.</p><p>“Tee-nye has to make chocolate pudding tonight, but I’m in charge of dispersal,” Boba explains.</p><p>Fox gets his elbows against the couch and raises a hand for a high five. “Nice.”</p><p>They all settle back for a bit, 29 and 42 shuffling out to go wrangle students. There’s light noise from Boba’s datapad that Fox thinks is from a rhythm game that Stone is fond of. He’s pleasantly warm, under 17, and he dozes a bit in the space between sleep, waking, and meditation.</p><p>He’s brought out of it when Boba asks a question. “What?” he asks sleepily.</p><p>Boba grumbles a bit but repeats himself. “Do we have to talk about what I called you a couple days ago?”</p><p>Fox hums, slides his arms back to elbow 17 in the side, making the Alpha grunt but slide off and tuck Boba in the space between them and the back of the couch as Fox rolls on his side as well. Boba looks disgruntled, but he wiggles until he’s comfortable in the space.</p><p>Fox leans over and presses their foreheads together, shares a few breaths, then pulls away. “I understand why, theoretically, you’re upset about what you called us. But I’d like to hear it from you.”</p><p>Boba huffs, wrapping his arms around himself. “<span class="u">Dad</span>’s gone. And he’s not coming back, and I can’t do anything to bring him back. You…you aren’t brothers, are more…his students? Than his sons.”</p><p>17 nods and Fox squeezes Boba’s hand.</p><p>“Is it…Is it a betrayal? Is it leaving him behind to call someone else my parent?”</p><p>Fox breaths with him, for a moment. “You say his name in our remembrances every night. You still call him ‘<span class="u">dad</span>’, and I…I don’t think you’d call either of us that.” He pauses. “I don’t think he’d feel betrayed, for you calling us that. I think, if he’d gotten to survive and see us at the end of this war, see you call us that, he’d laugh. He’d laugh and he’d tease us for taking such good care of you.</p><p>“Boba, he didn’t want you to have to be a bounty hunter. He read to you all the time, even though he’d rather draw all day. He wouldn’t begrudge you for any happiness you find after his death; he wouldn’t want you becoming a martyr to his memory.”</p><p>Boba hiccups, the tell-tale precursor to the tears, and Fox reels him in. “Aurra said,” he hiccups into his uppers. “Aurra said he’d want me to kill Windu.”</p><p>17 goes unnaturally still against his back. Fox can understand the sentiment.</p><p>“He wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger,” Fox counters. “And going up against a Jedi Master, one who he’d probably have respected if they were on the same side, at nine, or ten, or eleven… At any age below nineteen. That’d be putting yourself in danger. Especially because if you tried, we couldn’t be your back up.”</p><p>“I was so angry,” Boba admits. “Then Dooku made it worse, and then Aurra just kept feeding it and… And then Hondo said you guys were looking for me, that you wanted me. Aurra said you wouldn’t, because I was <span class="u">dad</span>’s son and you were all jealous.”</p><p>17 lets out a bark of laughter at that and Boba cracks a smile.</p><p>“So I told Hondo I wanted to at least, like, meet you and see what I wanted,” he continues. “Aurra was so mad, she tried to make me even madder, but then 17 was there, with the ARCs, and he said <em>you</em> were on Kamino and <span class="u">dad</span> always trusted you. And he wasn’t lying and it was like I could see you, hugging me. And it all felt clearer, so I went with 17. And then you were here and hugging me and I wasn’t only angry or sad anymore.”</p><p>Fox thinks about how the Sith would mess with their emotions, on Coruscant, would trap them in despair. “Darksider. She was a darksider.” He’ll need to tell General Ti so she can pass that along.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Fox runs his hand through Boba’s curls. “If you want us to be your parents, we can be your parents. If you want us to be your siblings, we can be your siblings. If you want us to just be your caretakers, your teachers, we can just be that. And you can think about it as long as you want.”</p><p>“Even if I never make up my mind?”</p><p>“Even then,” Fox promises, 17 echoing him.</p><p>“And we’ll protect you from everything we can,” 17 adds.</p><p>“I’ll hold you in my heart,” Boba promises, the words big and unwieldy in Fox’s ears because they’ve never been directed to him. But he knows, from Boba and Prime exchanging the words before the war, that it’s familial love.</p><p>He smiles. “And we will hold you in ours.”</p><p> </p><p>General Ti types on the datapad, nodding along as Fox goes through the paperwork. “You’re sure?” she asks for the third time.</p><p>“I am,” he agrees. “I’ve talked it through with Stone and Thire and Thorn.”</p><p>Stone might kill him for this, one day, but it will be a while from now.</p><p>“And the Alphas?” she asks.</p><p>“That’s for tonight,” he admits. “They’re not going to be happy with me for making the decision without them, but they’ll understand. I didn’t want them trying to influence me again.”</p><p>Ti gives him a heavy look. “Last time you were pretty much medically incomprehensible.” She drops the look, sighs. “It’s good to have you on board officially, Fox. I’ll push the paperwork through.”</p><p>Fox hums. “You passed on the information about Aurra Sing?”</p><p>“Those tracking her have been made aware.”</p><p> </p><p>He’s proud of his Guards, back on Coruscant and this class on Kamino. He’s especially proud that they’ve exceeded his expectations for graduation. Even 5922—now called Ben for reasons Fox hasn’t interrogated—has picked up his own slack to succeed.</p><p>Thorn arrives today to take them.</p><p>Fox allows, for the first time, his graduating class to hug him. He gives each of them a few breaths in Keldabe. Hugs for some, pats on the back for others, shoulders squeezed. Five of four, sent off to Coruscant.</p><p>“Stay safe, stay smart,” he makes them swear.</p><p>In two days, he’ll be back in with the younger squads to continue preparing them. He’s getting three new squads, too, of just-past-Littles who he hopes will never see Coruscant.</p><p>He meets up with Colt, Blitz, and Havoc for midmeal in Rancor’s kitchen. Blitz is one of Thorn’s batchmates, Colt is one of Fox’s cadet squadmates, and Havoc is liable to appear without invitation if both of them aren’t occupied.</p><p>“How’s it feel to officially be an instructor?” Colt asks, slapping his shoulder and tugging him into a side hug. “No more Marshall Commander nonsense.”</p><p>“I’m still a Commander,” he points out, popping Colt upside the head. “I’m just not in-charge anymore. Haven’t been since I got here, really, but I still had to sign off on the paperwork.”</p><p>Blitz snickers. “Thorn said the Chancellor’s been signing his own papers, by the way. Apparently it’s too much work to train someone else to forge his signature.”</p><p>Fox rolls his eyes. “Serves him right.”</p><p>Havoc brings over the food, including some sweet buns he makes every couple of weeks. Fox makes sure to snag one of them.</p><p>“So, do we get him, or do you guys get him?” Colt asks, referring to Thorn.</p><p>Fox grimaces. “I’m about to just toss him in with his new shinies but that’d be cruel and unusual punishment. None of them have pissed me off that much.”</p><p>Havoc cackles at that. “And they already have to be on a ship with him back to Coruscant.”</p><p>“I love him, I do,” Fox swears, “But I will smother him if I have to listen to him sigh about Quinlan Vos ever again.”</p><p>Blitz and Havoc both look at Colt.</p><p>“We know the feeling,” Blitz says pointedly.</p><p>“Okay so, he’s with us,” Colt says, ignoring them.</p><p>“Good,” Fox says, smiling at him.</p><p>Colt scowls. “You’re planning something.”</p><p>“Look,” Fox drawls, “I’m already planning on shipping Rex and Doom off on a holiday together after the war, it’s not too hard to just add you and General Ti into those plans!”</p><p>Blitz and Havoc <em>howl</em>.</p><p>“Who else!” Blitz begs. “Who else!”</p><p>Fox leans back and takes a bite of his bun. “Thorn and Vos, of course. Somewhere far away from me.”</p><p>“Oh, then you and 17 are going?” Havoc asks.</p><p>“If we can get someone unafraid to watch Boba and not wreck whatever planet we leave them on, maybe.” Fox rolls his eyes. “Who else do I know is in a relationship or wants to be in one… Bly and his general is a given. Once caught Cody and Rex’s CMO making out but I should check if that’s still a thing. Kriff, I can’t think of anyone else.”</p><p>“Kix, right? The CMO,” Colt asks.</p><p>“Yes, holds the braincells most of the time,” Fox agrees.</p><p>Havoc holds up his hands for them to pause, a grim look on his face. “Why is the 501<sup>st</sup> like that?”</p><p>“Bold of you to assume most battalions and legions aren’t, brother,” Fox replies, smirking.</p><p>“We’re not--.” Havoc starts.</p><p>Blitz cuts him off. “Oh, no, we are.”</p><p>Colt buries his face in his hands. Fox pats his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Thorn doesn’t let go of Fox for a solid minute, which is kind of impressive since he’s <em>lifting Fox in the air</em>.</p><p>17 grins from the corner of Fox’s vision, Boba tucked under one arm and Geneva under the other. She’s the only Guard ARC candidate, so he’s dragged her out to meet Thorn.</p><p>Finally, Thorn puts Fox’s feet back on the ground.</p><p>“I missed you too,” Fox says wryly.</p><p>Thorn wheezes out a string of curses that makes Fox look over his shoulder to glare complacency into Boba.</p><p>“Are you quite done?” Fox asks, turning back to Thorn.</p><p>Thorn glares at him. “I can curse if I want to.”</p><p>Boba takes that as his cue to squirm out of 17’s grasp and monkey-lizard up Fox’s back. “Hi,” he tells Thorn, who looks distantly contrite.</p><p>“Oh,” Thorn says, “I can’t curse if I want to.”</p><p>“No, you can’t,” Fox agrees, looping his arms around Boba’s legs so the boy won’t overbalance and fall. “This is Boba. Boba, this is Commander Thorn.”</p><p>Boba stares at Thorn for a long moment then decides that the younger Guard Commander isn’t worth his time, instead choosing to go limp in Fox’s grip and smoosh his cheek against his spaulder. “Can we get pudding now?” he asks.</p><p>Fox smiles and rolls his eyes. “We’re getting Thorn squared away, you can wait a little longer.”</p><p>“I want pudding,” Thorn offers, wincing when Fox gives him a dry look.</p><p>17 lazily makes his way over to them, pushing Geneva ahead of him.</p><p>“This is Geneva, she’s doing ARC training now instead of after graduation,” Fox explains, smiling as the girl preens. “So you have to wait a bit longer to get her.”</p><p>Thorn grins. “Must’ve impressed him quite a bit to get an early rec.” Then his eyes snap to 17’s hand as the Alpha wraps an arm around Fox’s waist. “Uh…”</p><p>“Thorn,” 17 drawls. “Behaving?”</p><p>“Never, sir,” Thorn says, though his grin falters as he looks back and forth between 17, his hand, and Fox.</p><p>“Well, let’s get you back to Rancor. They’re hosting you since we hosted some of the 501<sup>st</sup> last,” Fox says, instead of addressing what Thorn desperately wants to know.</p><p>“You’re not with them?” Thorn asks.</p><p>“No, I’m with some of the Alphas.”</p><p>“Oh,” Thorn says dimly. “Of course.”</p><p> </p><p>17 wakes Fox up in the middle of the sleep cycle, Boba awake with too-bright eyes and clinging.</p><p>Fox tries to get his breathing under control, tries to wrest back something because he has no clue why he’s hyperventilating, panicking, terrified. It’s obviously effecting Boba and it needs to stop, he desperately needs it to stop right now or else… or else…</p><p>17 pulls him close, plasters him against his chest. “Calm, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re here, you’re safe, everyone is safe.”</p><p>Fox boxes his breathing and shoves his nose into the collar of 17’s sleep shirt.</p><p>6, ever the team parent, stirs and snuffles. “Everything okay?”</p><p>“Rough night,” 17 murmurs back.</p><p>6 groans. “Boba come sleep by us. Let your caretakers handle it; you need your sleep.”</p><p>Boba darts forward to give Fox a brief hug before allowing himself to be shooed over and lulled back to sleep by the other Numbers’ breathing.</p><p>17 maneuvers them over so his shoulder is against the couch, giving Fox a smaller space he can curl up in. “Hey,” he says, one hand catching Fox’s shaking hands and the other threading fingers through his hair and rubbing his thumb along his cheek. “Anything to talk about?”</p><p>“Don’t remember,” Fox whispers. “Kriff, I don’t remember and it’s still…”</p><p>17 presses his lips below each of Fox’s eyes. “It’s okay. Promise.”</p><p>Fox nods, presses his nose back into 17’s neck, and whines. “Ventee…”</p><p>17 strokes fingers down Fox’s arms, pulls his head up and kisses his lips.</p><p>Fox sprawls his hands against 17’s chest. “Other room…”</p><p>“Mm.” 17 drops the hand on Fox’s arms to get it under his thighs, shoves himself so his feet are under them, then stands. Fox falls against him and wraps his legs around his waist. 17 gets them into the hall then takes a moment to press Fox against the door to the room in question and ply him with soft kisses. “Just touching,” he swears, “I’m holding you together right now and you only ever shake apart when we go further.”</p><p>“Good shaking apart,” Fox assures him, though he doesn’t argue for more than touching either.</p><p>17 fingers the keypad, unlocking the room and slipping them inside. He doesn’t lock it behind them, not tonight. The sheets are clean, there’s a sinfully soft blanket that 17 stole from one of the commanders who came to pick up their ARCs before the 501<sup>st</sup> but they haven’t…used…yet, and they already tend to keep the two smaller rooms warm. He sets Fox down on the edge of the bed, only detangling from him for a moment to grab the blanket.</p><p>Fox pulls him back in, leaning back onto the bed, and the blanket 17 wraps around his shoulders, and pulling him along. The blanket is soft against the skin of his neck and the growing bit of skin from 17 raking his shirt up. 17 is a warm wall above him, callused hands pressing into his skin and grounding him.</p><p>17 bites at Fox’s lips then presses his own under Fox’s chin. He pauses to take a breath before settling on his side between Fox and the door. “Hey,” he says, tugging one of Fox’s hands to him and kissing it.</p><p>“Hey,” Fox replies, twisting himself to press more against 17.</p><p>17 nibbles at Fox’s fingertips. “Do you think it’s because Thorn’s here? You already have trouble when anyone new comes, but it might be worse because you’re so familiar with him.”</p><p>“And I associate him with Coruscant,” Fox agrees, sighing. “And he’s taking shinies that I trained back, without me.”</p><p>“Please, tell me you don’t feel guilty about that,” 17 begs, pressing the back of Fox’s hand to his cheek.</p><p>Fox flinches. “A little. I can’t protect them… But I wouldn’t really be able to protect them much going back. It’s more…guilt that we’re still sending them out to die.”</p><p>17 takes that in then nods. “Okay, I’ll buy that. Kriff, sweetheart, but remember things will wind down. You’ve seen things that prove it.”</p><p>“My back and forth with time doesn’t prove much,” Fox argues quietly.</p><p>17 smiles, then presses that smile to Fox’s cheek. “I love you,” he says against his skin. “Gods and stars, but I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Fox didn’t expect Boba’s antipathy towards Thorn to get worse. He should have, he thinks distantly as the child snarls at Thorn. Boba hadn’t cared for him before, but then Fox had gone into nightmares and the fear leaked over to him. And Boba seems to have jumped to the same conclusion Fox and 17 had.</p><p>Thorn’s appearance had prompted the nightmares.</p><p>“Boba,” Fox snaps eventually, bringing the boy darting back behind his legs. He hesitates further chiding. Is Boba mad at Thorn because Thorn’s appearance hurt Fox, and Boba cares about that on its own? Or is he mad because Thorn’s appearance hurt Fox and that hurt leached over to him?</p><p>Boba attempts to look contrite, so there’s that.</p><p>“He’s a lot like you,” Thorn says.</p><p>Fox’s eyes go wide, eyebrows go up, and his chin tilts in as his head goes to the side. What the kriff?</p><p>17 howls with laughter.</p><p>“Do not,” Fox says, rounding on his lover and pointing furiously at him. “Do <em>not</em>, Alpha-17.”</p><p>17 stops laughing but looks unbelievably smug. Why does Fox love him, again?</p><p>“Okay, okay, so this is your place?” Thorn asks, finally stepping into the apartment and looking around. “Very clone-chic. Conglomerate bed, man I miss that, tons of paperwork and datapads. Armor rack, three patched holes in the wall--.”</p><p>“Four,” Fox corrects, pointing out the one behind Thorn.</p><p>“--Four patched holes in the wall, a bag that’s just bread, doodles on the walls…”</p><p>“And the ceiling,” Fox adds, sighing as he points to where 6 and 29 are planning 17 and Fox’s hypothetical wedding, mainly to piss them off. Boba helps occasionally and Fox has taken to writing those points down. If he and 17 ever do say the riduurok, they’ll make sure Boba feels welcome.</p><p>“Oh, niiii,” Thorn trails off, tilting his head to investigate the ceiling. “…Fox?”</p><p>“Yes, Thorn?”</p><p>Thorn looks like he’s bitten into a rotten lemon. “Are you and Alpha-17, uh…”</p><p>“Kriffing,” Boba offer.</p><p>Thorn tries to swallow.</p><p>“Of course they are,” Boba continues, “How else would they have gotten me?”</p><p>“We got you from the Kaminiise,” Fox says, though he’s pretty sure he’s never going to hear the end of this.</p><p>“That’s what all natborns tell their kids,” Boba says, rolling his eyes. Kriffing little troll.</p><p>17 doesn’t help; he’s too busy laughing his ass off.</p><p>Fox lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Don’t go spreading it around,” he finally says. “Rex is making bets.”</p><p>“I’ll get ahold of him to put one in, I guess,” Thorn says, looking pained. “How?”</p><p>“Patience,” 17 says, wincing like he got a cramp in his side from laughing but slapping a hand down on Thorn’s shoulder. “Lots of patience.”</p><p>Fox rolls his eyes. “Boba’s study room is the left door. Fresher is first on the right. Alone time room is the second on the right.”</p><p>“Alone time room?” Thorn asks, eyes bugging out.</p><p>“We live with three to seven other people at a time, Thorn, sometimes we need the space,” Fox tells him, deadpan. People besides he and 17 can use it, yes. They keep it clean just for that. Just because no one has yet to take them up on that…</p><p>Thorn does another cursory sight investigation of the apartment. “…It’s good to see you with people you’ll let care about you.”</p><p>Fox sighs again, stepping forward to hug the man who had become a younger brother to him on Coruscant. “Thank you,” he tells Thorn.</p><p> </p><p>The 327<sup>th</sup> is next to come to Kamino and, somehow, Fox, Boba, and the Numbers end up with Bly and his General, and General Ti, in their apartment for lateemeal.</p><p>Or, it’s supposed to be latemeal. Bly is lying on his back, on the bed, trying to process that he accidentally came in during a moment that was about to lead to Fox and 17 in the other room.</p><p>“Impressive,” General Secura said when she came in and was alerted that Bly had been doing this for an hour.</p><p>Now she’s eating 6’s food.</p><p>Comms are off, Ti made a seagrass salad, 6 is messing around with holonet grill recipes, Boba and 29 made pudding, 42 and Secura are talking about “hypothetical” spec ops missions, and 17 is tucked against Fox’s back. It’s a bit dream-like, even with Boba’s bony elbows digging into his calf and papers to grade.</p><p>The Little-Keepers are handling the rest of the 327<sup>th</sup> who came down.</p><p>“Bly,” Fox eventually prods, poking the other with his sock-covered foot. “Food.”</p><p>“I hate you,” Bly grumbles before flopping over to push himself up.</p><p>Fox shoots 17 an unimpressed look. “You raised him.”</p><p>“I mitigated further damage,” 17 argues sweetly.</p><p>Bly, only half up, squints at him, frowning. “I have never in my life heard you be a bastard in that tone of voice.”</p><p>“Well I don’t have to keep you happy enough to keep kriffing me, do I?” 17 says, smirking as Bly grimaces dramatically.</p><p>“Who knows about this, off Kamino?” Bly finally asks, crossing the room to get a plate. Secura is smirking at him too, which makes him look pained.</p><p>“Rex. Thorn. Rex will be telling Wolffe as soon as I give the all clear,” Fox explains. “We felt if you heard it from Wolffe and then got conformation while you were here, your brain would break even more.”</p><p>Bly sighs and leans against the counter. “Cody and Ponds are going to commit a murder once they find out.”</p><p>“Who do you think they’ll kill?” Fox asks, lips twitching into a smile.</p><p>“Can I help?” Boba asks, looking up from his datapad, which is playing footage from 42’s ARC class. He’s supposed to be helping 42 with comments but Fox has noticed him capturing smaller videos and adding biting commentary. Some of those videos have ended up passed around Kamino.</p><p>“Not until you’re thirteen,” Fox tells him.</p><p>“He can have a little murder,” 17 cajoles. “As a treat, you know? Good behavior.”</p><p>Fox elbows him in the gut. “Thirteen,” he repeats.</p><p>Bly snickers. “Nah, but I’d put money on Rex, once they find out he knew first. But hasn’t Cody been here, too?”</p><p>“Before we got together,” Fox explains, stealing 17’s beer. He pitches his voice across the room to ask, “General Ti, have you told anyone?”</p><p>Ti, from where she is chatting with 6 and 29, looks up and grins. “No. No need to. After all, that’s <em>completely separate</em> from your ongoing recovery.”</p><p>“That said, Thorn is sleeping with Vos,” he replies.</p><p>“He’s what?” Bly asks.</p><p>Secura’s got wide eyes at that, too, but she looks like she’s plotting something.</p><p>“Vos has never met Alpha-17 and even if he discovers he’s an ARC instructor, he is unaware of 17’s connections to Master Kenobi or any of 17’s old commander squad,” Ti explains, “And 17 isn’t the only ARC instructor.”</p><p>“There’s four of us,” 42 tells Secura. “Me, 17, a medic, and a demolition specialist.”</p><p>“Well,” Secura says, “I doubt my Master will have any time to reveal relationships for a while. The Senate officially indited the Supreme Chancellor for abuse of power and treason, yesterday, and he’s one of the Jedi assigned to the requested Order investigative team.”</p><p>There’s a pregnant silence in the room.</p><p>“Oh, I suppose that’s a little--.”</p><p>General Ti cuts her off with a shrill shriek of joy, bounding across the room with 6 on her heels to tackle 17 and Fox.</p><p>Fox laughs, and laugh, and laughs. “Finally,” he gasps, “Kriffing finally!”</p><p>Boba rolls on his side away from the sudden tangle of limbs. “Wait, is that…”</p><p>“The Council will have chosen the right people to back up my initial report, they prove that with Vos,” Ti streams. “Master Nu has already been preparing a dossier about the Sith’s historical opposition of a unified Republic at the request of a Senator who wants to sentence Dooku to death once he’s captured.”</p><p>Fox laughs against her, clinging to 17’s arms. 6 presses in to drop a brief Keldabe against his forehead.</p><p>“They’re going to be safe,” Fox mutters. “The war’s going to end.”</p><p>He can hear 42 and 29 quietly filling Secura and Bly in, but what really solidifies that this isn’t a dream is that Boba wedges himself into the mess of people to hug him.</p><p> </p><p>Fox stirs against 17’s chest, scrunching his face when the Alpha swipes his thumb across his cheek.</p><p>“Up and at ‘em, sweetheart,” 17 murmurs. “Leaving this morning.”</p><p>Fox responds by burying his nose in the hollow of 17’s collarbone.</p><p>17 chuckles, the warm sound rumbling through Fox. “Come on, I can’t carry Boba and you. You can curl up with me again once we’re on the ship.”</p><p>Fox sighs but detaches himself from 17 to sit up and stretch. His back pops satisfyingly as he stretches, but he jolts when 17 presses his hands to his stomach. “Really?” he asks, batting at 17’s forearm.</p><p>17 grins cheekily at him. “Can’t help but want to touch you.”</p><p>They’re the last instructors on Kamino and today the final infant clones are being loaded on three venator-class ships to go to Dantooine. Boba is with them, since he didn’t want to go ahead, is afraid to separate for too long. 17 has already talked with Kenobi about the place they’ll be settling. Kenobi is barely keeping together after his former padawan left the Order, and Republic space, after Palpatine was found guilty and turned over to the Order as a Sith. He’s taken over Tano’s training and both have agreed to settle with 17, Fox, and Boba.</p><p>The Order is reclaiming the old Dantooine Temple, mainly because many of the Jedi who became close to their troops wanted a steady place for the new citizens as they figure out what to do with all of their back pay. Dantooine is going from less than thirty thousand sentients to four million. And that’s with the planned adoption of many of the youngest clones by families on Concord Dawn and Chalacta and older clones who will be keeping track of the adoptees.</p><p>Fox’s eyes soften and he rolls 17 onto his back so he can kiss him. A soft bite of lip against lip.</p><p>17 tries to deepen the kiss, but Fox laughs and pulls away. 17 whines.</p><p>“We need to get going, beloved,” Fox reminds him, climbing to his feet and hauling 17 up. 17 pauses to kiss him again but gets going.</p><p>They’re leaving the lives they built here behind. The other Numbers had spent three days documenting the art they’d scrawled across the apartment, but everything is left to the Kaminiise.</p><p>They armor up and Fox grabs their go-bags. 17 goes ahead to get Boba, wrapping the twelve-year-old in his blankets and heading out the door. Fox remembers to grab Boba’s entertainment datapad and trails after. It will mainly only be useful on the trip. There’s all sorts of new stuff waiting for them ahead and Boba will have exhausted the library on the ‘pad by then. Plenty of time to get a new one, instead of a repurposed Guard one, by the time he wants to use it again.</p><p>The troopers moving the babies are already finishing the final transfer, bustling forward with two apiece to pack together so there’s little movement in the transport ships. Wolffe waves them around the organized chaos and into the ship that will take them up, close quarters with him and a dozen other clones with babies snuggled close.</p><p>“About time,” the grump mutters, though it’s about the abandonment of Kamino. Plo Koon is on another ship, like many of the Jedi who are escorting their former troops in the evacuation.</p><p>It was their home, but, with all of the clones off of it, it’s ceased being that. Kamino didn’t want them, once they got Republic citizenship. They’d hunkered down until there was a gene therapy drug that would slow their advanced aging to that of a normal near-human. After that, though, they’d organized getting everyone off.</p><p>Some had thought Mandalore would take them, but the New Mandalorians are only letting the adoptions go through because they don’t know about them. It’s particularly brutal, though the violence isn’t physical. Or, it isn’t usually physical. Fox has been on calls with the other former Marshall Commanders (no matter that he eventually gave the title up to stay on Kamino and Stone took his place; Stone never wanted the job) and representatives from the Old Clans about the possibility of the clones gaining citizenship if they help take the sector back from New Mandalorian and Death Watch alike. The discussions are ongoing.</p><p>“Yeah,” Fox replies.</p><p>Their ship takes off with many others and in short order arrives on the venator. From there, Wolffe escorts them to the little stateroom that will be their home until Dantooine before fleeing their domesticity to oversee the last arrivals.</p><p>“Wish I could nap through all that,” 17 mutters, settling Boba down onto the bunk. It’ll be cramped for all three of them, but not the worst. After all, once they’d gotten the Slave I back they’d all crashed in that matchbox of a ship, and that was with Geneva and the Numbers with them. The ship was waiting for them at the new homestead, too.</p><p>Boba stirs once he’s been settled, though. He wrinkles his nose and snuggles deeper into his blankets but sleepily asks, “Buire?”</p><p>“We’re here, Bo’ika,” Fox assures him. “Need to take our armor back off. We’re on the ship now. Do you want to say goodbye to Kamino?”</p><p>“No, m’good,” Boba promises. “Nap?”</p><p>17 chuckles, stripping off his armor with precision. “Yeah, give us a moment. Then, once we wake up, we’ll bother Wolffe for some food.”</p><p>“Mm’kay.” The boy drifts back into sleep.</p><p>Fox gets his armor off slower, but 17 waits until he’s curled around Boba before getting in the bunk and pulling both almost-on-top of him. Their heartbeats and body heat lull him into a light doze that makes the light slide as his mind in time does.</p><p>It’s an interesting semi-vision between time.</p><p>Kenobi had, when he was on Kamino to take the Slave I to Dantooine and oversee the Littles being put on the venators that had been under his purview as a High General, told Fox that their new home was quiet. It is surrounded by tall grasses, in easy sight of several troopers-turned-farmers’ homesteads. Fox and 17 will be the equivalent of the Journeyman Protector for the area. In the day, the sky is blue; at night, it is kaleidoscope black; and, at dawn and dusk, the sky in this area only turns a particularly balmy purple. He’s seen that purple before with 17, has seen it in the background of other visions.</p><p>And now, as he falls asleep safe with his ven’riduur and his ad, the light around them from the overhead cabin lights morphs into that same warm color.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So yeah. The Palps gets arrested, the war ends, Anakin fucks off to cause problems, a bunch of the Jedi and most of the clones move to Dantooine, and (somewhat hinted at) Obi-Wan ends up the platonic third to Alpha-17/Fox while Ahsoka is the cool older sibling to Boba who, by the time of the move, straight up calls 17 and Fox his parents. This story actually only happens about a year into the war (I'm standing by my constant decision to say Boba's late-9 during AotC). It is after the point where the other 3 million clones were ordered though. </p><p>If you're wondering about the Fetts' relationship to time and the Force, check out my Deception in Kyber fic(s). </p><p>Writing this made me ship both Rex/Doom and Cody/Kix for some reason. Also Thorn/Quinlan Vos. </p><p>Anyways yeah thanks I have Feelings about the Coruscant Guard and Fox specifically.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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